Reflection of Providence

“Some people are always grumbling because roses have thorns; I am thankful thorns have roses.” – Alphonse Karr “Gratitude is the sign of noble souls.” – Aesop   The first quote delighted me. My eyes got wide & I giggled. I miss the point. I look at the pain & not the beauty. I don’t bend low to receive God’s blessings. I don’t partake in the banquet of grace before me. I truly want others to know their worth, but I forget to know mine. Becoming less so He can become more is a hard etching on my life map. It bleeds through the canvas into marrow. I am left scrapping & scuffing against it. Seeing, perceiving two roads. Should I take the road less travelled? After all I am made adventure – begging & pleading. I have waking dreams of it. I am a woman with her head in the clouds. I see the world differently; a kaleidoscope of providence that etches a story. The Storyteller sings our stories. We all have, as Sara Groves says, purposes written on our hearts, wr

  The ground is tilled. The air is mild - cool & crisp. There is sufficient rain & sunshine in the forecast. The seed is refined & ready for the soil. The crop is just peaking green shoots from black earth. The harvest will be plentiful. There will be produce for the cellar. I will not starve come winter. The abundance, rich & deep, shared. Those who wish may come take what they need. They may share in the bounty. Other fields are ready. They will grow a bumper crop. I will partake of their fare. Others will not till the soil or make preparations for winter. They will forage, scrape, & pilfer for their sustenance, but even these are welcome. They may take what they cannot give. The sunrise promised has been given. I have an understanding as never before of what grace looks like. Every prayer answered. Every. Single. One. Answered. The reckless love of God is close to the heart. It swells - floods warm through cold veins once tight & restrictive to cha