O Lord, Do You Hear My Cry?

rose1My feet scuffle through the leaves enjoying the sounds and smells of the season.

I don’t seem to be able to gather enough of these fleeting  moments

And though for some it’s a reminder that winter is coming

for me Fall is a special gift to be  treasured. Always.

Perspective changes everything, doesn’t it?

As a child I have fond memories of raking enormous piles of leaves with my big brother

and then jumping wildly in them till we just couldn’t do it again.

Sounds of laughter filled the air.

Squeals of joy at being covered with piles of red, yellows, orange and brown leaves.

Giggles when coming up for air again.

A child’s playground all around in that part of New York State.

But then a few years later I remember vividly raking and raking a seeming endless  amount of  leaves

needing to bag each pile and drag it to the street.

Huge blisters and aching arms.

Suddenly Autumn leaves no longer held a charm for me

but spelled hard work,  pain and misery.

Today many years later

I scuffle through the leaves remembering the gift that for a time was painful

But still a gift.

Drowning in an ocean of leaves that seemed to accumulate as quickly as I could rake them

I cried out in despair.

No longer was I a young girl freely playing

no, I was older and needed to do my share of the work.

But gifts oftentimes do not appear to be gifts.

No, sometimes the gift is wrapped in hard work

difficult moments

blistering feelings and ripped heart strings

Relationship struggles that once seemed gift

but suddenly go wrong

Parenting challenges that stretch the heart and tax the mind

Bring one humbly down to our knees in cries for help and wisdom.

Still a gift, the Father whispers.

Look beyond the painful moment and hold onto the laughter of other times.

That day will come again.

You’ll see.

Our Father works behind the scenes

Hold on to the gifts He gives

and treasure them no matter how difficult it might seem in the moment.

Scuffling leaves

Leaves falling gently down outside my window this morning

remind me of His Love

and speak grace and hope

when the gift no longer appears to be gift.

Great is Thy Faithfulness

Always –

 

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