It was a beautiful June afternoon and the garden was in full bloom. So much so, that some of my favourite mauve geraniums were spilling out of the flower bed onto the garden path.
Unable to bear the thought of them getting trampled on, I hastily grabbed my secateurs and snipped off some of the drooping blooms. Something like a twinge of regret nagged at my heart as I went to dump them in the cuttings bin. Seemed like such a waste.
But then I remembered I had just the right jug.
Come to me, all who labour and are heavy-laden and I will give your rest – Matt 11:28
I picked up my pen,
But the words wouldn't come,
My mind in a tangle,
My brain feeling numb.
I tried and I tried
To keep doing my best,
But the weight of my trials
Crushed the hope in my chest.
And grief stripped my song,
To a desolate cry,
My worship a whisper,
My prayers just a sigh.
Each step that I took
Weighed with worrisome boulders,
Until two big strong arms,
Placed me up on His shoulders.
And He bandaged my wounds
And He called me His daughter,
And He led me through meadows,
To quiet streams of water.
I said: "Lord I've failed You,
I've not done enough!'
And He sang to me softly,
And hushed me with love.
Then He answered: 'Be still
There is no need to hurry,
Just rest in my goodness,
Don't fret and don't worry.'
Those who wait on the Lord,
Will find new strength to run,
They'll rise up like eagles,
With their wings in the sun,
'Just lean into me,
Lay Your head on my chest,
Cast your burdens upon Me,
And I'll give you my rest'.
EVERYDAY ENCOUNTERS 