THOUGHTS

April 19, 2020

This morning as I walked my field listening to my pastor's sermon,
I flushed a flock of ducks, including a huge mallard pair
quacking loudly while taking flight from the waterway by my house.  
Earlier I observed a white egret tiptoeing carefully along the shallows.
Then I watched a mama swallow catching bugs 
 to feed to her babies crying loudly from their mud dab nest.

A reprint from fb jail, April 2013

April winds are blowing hard, beating the trees and flowering wisteria as if it could make a froth like lavender whipped cream.  The trees seem to be gripping the ground with their toes as they are whipped to and fro.  Yet, it will only make their roots grow stronger if they are not pulled up like a weed by the wind.  I spied a bird on a branch clinging for all its worth on a wild ride.  It finally had to fly away on the wings of the windstorm before being buffeted to death by the surrounding branches.

There is an old hymn I love, "Flee as a bird to your mountain, thou who are weary of sin."  Sometimes don't you wish God could put the parental block on the wickedness of this ol'world?  We are buffeted, but we can fly, not in His face, but to His face and find refuge for our souls.

"In the Lord I take refuge; 

How can you say to my soul,

'Flee as a bird to your mountain;

For, behold, the wicked bend the bow,

They make ready their arrow upon the string,

To shoot in darkness at the upright of heart...

For the Lord is righteous; He loves righteousness;

The upright will behold His face."

Psalm 11

"Gone were but the Winter,

Come were but the Spring,

I would go to a covert

Where the birds sing."

Christina Rosetti