blessing

For as the heaven is high above the earth, so great is his mercy toward them that fear him (Psalm 103:11 KJV).

I’m not sure why this verse reminds me of spring. Maybe because the words remind me of another verse on mercy.

It is of the LORD’S mercies that we are not consumed, because his compassions fail not. They are new every morning: great is thy faithfulness (Lamentations 3:22-23 KJV).

Jeremiah prophesied of the Babylonian invasion. He was persecuted for sharing the word of the Lord. If you know the story, you know the siege was horrific. People starved. Others ate their own children. The invading army slaughtered the king’s children and then removed his eyes. The death of his children was the last visual he had. And the sad part of it all was that it could have been avoided if only they’d listened and obeyed.

As he wept, Jeremiah recalled the prophecies of renewal, restoration, and revival. It is important to remember the blessings while sitting amid the trials. Lamentations 3 tells us His mercy is new every morning.

Morning is a new day. Spring is like the morning. It’s a new start. A season of renewal. A season of hope. We must remember that we are not hopeless because we have a Hope. His name is Jesus. And no matter how dark the night may seem, morning is coming. And with the morning comes renewal.

But I will sing of thy power; yea, I will sing aloud of thy mercy in the morning: for thou hast been my defence and refuge in the day of my trouble (Psalm 59:16 KJV).

O, how great is His mercy! I am looking for that eternal morning. How about you?

The heavens declare the glory of God; and the firmament sheweth his handywork. Psalms 19:1

I built my patio nineteen years ago, when I was pregnant with Lindsay, from blocks obtained from an old utility room. For years, hubby has tried to convince me to rip it up, offering to build me a better one. I have refused every time.

It may not be the prettiest thing, but it holds the best memories. My late father-in-law used to come for chats under the oak tree. My kids spent hours going ’round and ’round on their Little Tikes car and motorcycle. We enjoyed birthday parties, late-night talks around a fire, and grilled suppers on it. In the summers, I strung lights in the oak, and we enjoyed late-night swims. I’ve wept and prayed, written songs and verse while surveying the beauty of creation.

Every year finds me on hands and knees pulling the weeds from cracks. And every year, my family asks, “Why don’t you just spray the weeds?” I point to the flowers. They peer at the flowers growing between the cracks. They understand. They kneel and begin pulling weeds.

The weeds in this life are a nuisance. If I had my choice, I would choose a life without weeds. But the flowers often found among them are precious.

Trials and tests are like those weeds. I would often choose a life without them. But the blessings I have received among them are priceless.

How about you?

Would you choose a life without weeds if it meant no flowers?