DPChallenge, One Good Thing Every Day 2013

One Good Thing Every Day: April 11, 2013

Nine to twelve inches of snow are predicted for my area. Yet, I laughed when I read this passage. Snow in April is ridiculous. But, God’s sense of humor is poignant and giggle-worthy at the same time.

Psalm 55:6,8

I said, “Oh, that I had the wings of a dove!
    I would fly away and be at rest.

I would hurry to my place of shelter,
    far from the tempest and storm.”

Yesterday, I watched a Mourning Dove eat birdseed off the ground. This morning, the seeds are covered with snowflakes. One lone bird is finding shelter and food in my feeder, and the dove is no where to be seen. Still, here are the next words God planned for me to read today.

“Begin the day with open hands of faith, ready to receive all that I am pouring into this brief portion of your life. Be careful not to complain about anything, even the weather, since I am the Author of your circumstances.” from Sarah Young’s Jesus Calling: Enjoying Peace in His Presence

Psalm 118:24 NKJV

This is the day the Lord has made;
We will rejoice and be glad in it.

Today I choose to cup my hands under these fleeting, snowy blessings. If I do stick my tongue out, it is only to take a cue from Psalm 34:8.

Psalm 34:8 NIV

Taste and see that the Lord is good;
    blessed is the one who takes refuge in him.

DPChallenge, One Good Thing Every Day 2013

One Good Thing Every Day: March 20, 2013

The first day of spring in Minnesota is under the snow. Tulips greeted me a year ago, but they sleep soundly today. I heard a bird or two last week when a year ago we bird-watched daily. The grass greened early. I wonder if I will see green again.

But, I am not jealous for last year. It was an anomaly. I live for these days of hibernation in the land of the cold sun. We need our winter repose to appreciate the humidity of July. I don’t believe in groundhog shadows because each day Minnesota’s weather surprises me. Where else can the sun blind me as it reflects off the snowbanks? Where else can I abate a hot flash by opening my backdoor? Where else can spring sound like the gentle melting trickle down my window pane? Where else can the lone tone of a robin bring such hope?