colour fractured in a prism
light reflected in the rain
i pound the pavement alone and wonder
it’s not alone i feel today.
fields of summer harvest zoom past
and skies of blue promise warmth
they say grass is greener far away
but here i am, and here i’ll stay.
tender leaves are budding forth
promise of sweet fruits abound
to shelter from sudden frost and fire
i’ll cling close to the Creator now.
it’s a new season
i can see the cracks in the ground
but the pavement, well-worn by anxiety
is better covered in prayer sound.
you cannot predict the twists and turns of life
and yet I know - Christ will carry me home.
For the LORD God is a sun and shield;
The LORD will give grace and glory;
No good thing will He withhold From those who walk uprightly.
(Psalm 84:11)
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Thanks for sharing this!
Don’t steal, guys.
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Philippians 4:8
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Time to travel soon? :)
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A good reminder.
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Yes what this says (Taken with Instagram)
Star Trails by Jack Fusco
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Spring is upon Melbourne.
With the warmer weather and sunnier days come violent winds and dirty rain, and the later sunset is offset (for me) by the late end to work, still after dark. Such is life; friends come and go, thoughts ebb and flow, and I find that much has changed. And yet much is the same.
Working makes you realise that self-learning is a habit to be encouraged, not forced by others or unwanted teachers; and that competency, like any other skill, is yet another standard to overcome. Hurdling the obstacle is the mountain looming, as a molehill before an ant, far above your head. It is when you’re in over your head that you fully comprehend, with the twilight reflected in your eyes: it’s make or break, change or be made obsolete.
Trudging on stubbornly in hope, whether in survival or determination, needs external strength. Thank God for friends, for family, for His grace - for who survives unless by grace? - for love lost and won, for understanding what ground was gained or lost, for the strength each day to rise again.
And now, finally, the last season is loosening its winter grip. Falling far behind are the horrors of yesteryear, and the dark tar pits that stained clothes are becoming medals of adventure past; and instead the vista of a new horizon are causing the dreams that fell unheeded to the bottom of the consciousness to sprout like tender seedlings, reaching for the sun.
…and grace will lead me home.
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I’m looking forward to the new challenges this season is bringing… How about you?
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