It is January 23. Winter.
I was awakened by thunderstorms this morning.
Now as I sit on my couch reading and writing, it looks more like spring.
This is what I see from my window...
Small marching crows. Systematically circling our field below. Marching, marching as if participating in a military drill of some kind. Others patiently standing guard in the trees high above their comrades.
As my attention moves across the trees, a tiny white face catches my eye. The head has a splash of bright red on top, a little red crown. I only notice it because the continuous motion of tapping the tree catches my eye. An ongoing search for unaware insects just below the bark. Small chips of wood now litter the ground below, a testimony to the diligence of the relentless effort above.
The next movement I notice is the once again raging torrent of water within the swollen banks of our creek. The water is in continuous motion, brown and cloudy from mud and snow and gravel removed from driveways in its path.
Then high above the trees just the tiniest wispy tufts of see-through cloud blow past at an astonishing rate of speed. Seen only briefly before passing out of sight.
God's creation does not rest. Even if unseen by human eyes it moves forward pursuing its final destination and resting place, making preparations necessary for survival when given a chance to emerge from their winter hiding places.
David's Psalms describe it perfectly!
Bless the LORD, O my soul!
O LORD my God, you are very great!
You are clothed with splendor and majesty,
covering yourself with light as with a garment,
stretching out the heavens like a tent.
He lays the beams of his chambers on the waters;
he makes the clouds his chariot;
he rides on the wings of the wind;
he makes his messengers winds,
his ministers a flaming fire.
He set the earth on its foundations,
so that it should never be moved.
You covered it with the deep as with a garment;
the waters stood above the mountains.
At your rebuke they fled;
at the sound of your thunder they took to flight.
The mountains rose, the valleys sank down
to the place that you appointed for them.
You set a boundary that they may not pass,
so that they might not again cover the earth.
You make springs gush forth in the valleys;
they flow between the hills;
they give drink to every beast of the field;
the wild donkeys quench their thirst.
Beside them the birds of the heavens dwell;
they sing among the branches.
From your lofty abode you water the mountains;
the earth is satisfied with the fruit of your work.
(Psalm 104:1-13 ESV)
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