A red kite circles overhead, silhouetted against a grey, louring sky. A fat cock pheasant struts past the window, plucking fallen grain from the bird feeders overhead. A diminutive blue tit clings to the bobbing netting, pecking at a fat ball while buffeted by the strengthening wind.
Soon, maybe already, they will be building nests, preparing for the next generation. They will gather dead twigs and yellowing moss, using that which is now dead to build a cradle for new life.
Nothing is wasted in the economy of God.
Lord, take what is now dead in me and use it. Help me to work with you to build a nest, a home for new life not yet known to me. As one season segues seamlessly into another, so may it be in me today.
Nothing is wasted in the economy of God. The original ecologist.
No comments:
Post a Comment