I thought it wonderful that, after a weekend that included a heat index of 108, God would gift me with 67 degrees temperatures for my morning walk. Then I took a deep breath and recognized the ability to do so as a gift. And felt the cool dew on my feet as I moved through the grass. And noticed the sunbursts and the flowers. All gifts from a loving, generous Father.
Of the choices I had after arriving home from work, two had my attention: go for a walk or complete mowing the yard in preparation for the weed and feed product. I chose the latter and felt rewarded for my labor by these images.😃
The pop of color against the overcast hue of the day, drew me into my backyard, cellphone in hand to take a photograph. Noticing the raindrops on the roses and having these lyrics,”Rain drops on roses,” come to mind, made me laugh out loud with joy. A rainy day gift. Thank You, Father.
There are several paths I take in my morning walks
but the one which leads me toward the sunlight is my favorite.
And I think of how HE who is the Light is constantly wooing, calling, drawing me to Him.
And how there are times I run toward HIM, my pace fueled by a desperate need.
And other times, I am like a child caught up in playtime, reluctant to give up what has my attention,
And I say, “I am coming,” while still in place or walk toward HIM with my gaze fixed on what I am leaving behind.
But HIS invitation is never withdrawn and, although gentle, HE is relentless in his wooing,”Come. Walk with ME. Life is better in the light and with the LIGHT.” And I am thankful.
Unimaginable glory laid aside
Human flesh and vulnerability donned
The Creator among His creation
Submission to earthly parents
Leaving when the time came
Appearing to be baptized of John
Driven into the wilderness
40 days of fasting
“If you are the Son of God, do.”
“Worship me and I will give.”
Responding with the Word
Saying only His words
Doing only His works
Rejection by those He came to save
Friend of tax collectors and other sinners
Threatened with death
Wrestling in Gethsemane
Capillaries bursting under the strain
Wrestling with what had to be done to redeem us
“If it is possible, let this cup pass”
“Your will, not Mine”
Knowing completely all that would happen
But face set as a flint
The kiss of betrayal
Outcome long determined
Crown of thorns
Beaten beyond recognition
Body marred more than any other man
Pain wracked bloodied
Carrying His cross up Golgotha’s hill
Simon of Cyrene conscripted
The agony of breathing
The mocking taunts of those who passed by
“Come down from the cross if you are the Son of God”
The mocking of the justly condemned thief
“Save yourself and us”
The anguish of feeling forsaken
Letting go of the relationship with the one who bore Him
“Woman, behold your son”
“Behold your mother”
Praying for forgiveness for the mockers
For those crucifying Him
“It is finished”
And the releasing, the yielding of His spirit
Redemption was free…for the redeemed
Beyond any human’s ability to pay, for the Redeemer