I see the beauty of Papa’s heart reflected in creation. I see the gold of His motives in the sunset and His grace spilling out across the sea…
Sweaty palms, uncontrollable shaking, heart racing, self fragmenting. Restriction squeezing breath from lungs. Not seeing through eyes, but rather, through panicked, crackling frequencies of flick-flick-flick-flickering light… but there is a way out.
How do we see the new spiritual landscape we already intuit by the Spirit of God? Where is it? And how do we get there?
The fragrance of His presence in us is captivating to others. How beautiful He is!
How often do we plant things thinking that they are of our Father, but in actual fact, they are of ourselves or of others?
May the garden of you grow in accordance with the Kingdom DNA Jesus has placed there… life is welling up.
Because I am a words person, there are days when I hear too many words and my brain can’t keep up. This is when overwhelm can kick in. Why? Well, I muse over words. I say them. I like to savour their rhythms, intonations, combinations and meanings in the same way another might savour a fine wine or a favourite meal. Words mean something to me. So when I see words being used as weapons, it angers me…
I reflect on all of the activity taking place in my garden: "The leaves really do move as though they are clapping their hands. The She Oak sings and sways in response to gentle breezes. There is movement in the pond where the fish zip back and forth, and somewhere off in the distance a kookaburra laughs about the rain that is coming from a distant place."
As sons and daughters of God, we can remind creation of who it is and Whose it is.
The beauty of regeneration and innocence as they meet and appreciate the joy of hope.