“Behold, I make all things new.” Revelations 21:5
The miracle of spring always astounds me. Just before it arrives, the world seems gloomy and the trees stretch lifeless into the sky as if hanging on the air for their only balance. The grass is dull and vague and angry, stomped by the weight of heavy cold.
And then the air begins to breathe and the grass freshens, the dew nourishing its frozen paleness. And we have life. The first bud. And then another. The flower blooms, and yellows and pinks begin to live in the wild again, and life arrives. But then life was already going on. Underground, in the air, in the hope of nature, the violin of rain, the cello of the storm, the flute of snow, the viola of the budding seed, which builds into this perfect crescendo of orchestrated love, its symphony entitled: My Miracle of Spring.
Maybe that is how some miracles occur, and some mountains are moved with the faith of a mustard seed, all things working out for the very best good. Your miracle, your own symphony of orchestrated moments. The law of nature is your miracle proof; it is coming, it must, you asked and it always does.
Love to all. Psalm 91. Dianne
Dianne Timmering, Vice President of Spirituality
Signature Consulting Services, LLC