Somehow the gardening gene seems to have escaped my genetic code. The most prevalent things in my flower beds are usually weeds. I have planted some lovely perennials, and sometimes they actually bloom. I can water and feed the plants, and pull weeds until my hands ache and my fingers crack, but with every rainfall the weeds are right back, taller and more abundant than the week before. They have no vision for the beauty the garden could offer. They follow no plan, but take root in the smallest sidewalk cracks and take over any tiny spot of soil they can find.
Recently I attempted to complete a simple puzzle with my grandson Kaleb, who is three. In my way of thinking, the way the twenty-four pieces were cut gave little clue as to where they should be placed. I studied an oddly-shaped piece with blue, black, and a splash of orange in the corner, wondering what it was and where it should go.
No record of my family history – nor yours — is required. We just accept God’s gift by faith in His Son Jesus, and we enter into the joy of serving Him.
When I received a summons to appear in court recently, I asked God, “Would you please make this go away? I really don’t want to go.” But the summons was real, and there wasn’t much chance of its going away.
I love Hezekiah’s response. First he consulted Isaiah the prophet to ask how God wanted him to respond. Next, Hezekiah physically laid out the message he had received from Sennacherib’s servants and prayed over it before God.
What a privilege we have been given to sing, praise, and make music before the Lord. He delights in our praise, whether in word or song. Do we remember to freely praise Him? If all of nature honors Him, why would we withhold our praise?