A southern wind

A southern wind has stretched the clouds as thin as filament,
threads intricately woven into the stark blue fabric of the winter sky.

A swaying tree lifts her branches
in thankfulness and expectation that change is near,
even now budding within her branches,
pressing to escape the bonds of dormancy.

Hints of the tropics are borne on the stiff breeze,
reminders of a sloop setting a tack across the wind
with the melody of laughing voices as the backdrop,
the smells of summer and sun and the sea
calling us from winter into spring.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Summer and winter, and springtime and harvest,

Sun, moon and stars in their courses above,

Join with all nature in manifold witness,
To Thy great faithfulness, mercy and love.

Great is Thy faithfulness!  Great is Thy faithfulness!

Morning by morning new mercies I see.

All I have needed Thy hand hath provided;

Great is Thy faithfulness, Lord, unto me.

 

On the wings of the wind

In west Texas, the wind is a reality of daily life. Winter winds cut like a knife, encountering little resistance from topography or trees. Summer winds can feel like a blast furnace when combined with 100-degree temperatures. But spring....spring winds bring all kinds of things! Sometimes they come ahead of thunderstorms, other times leading one of those surprise cold fronts (isn't winter over?). Today they were steady all day, 30-40 mph. I complained and prepared for the great brown-ness that happens when Lubbock blows in to town. However, today God treated us to a beautiful show of his splendor all day long. It began with a beautiful sunrise.

The clouds swirled throughout the day in massive formations, moving, growing, reconfiguring moment by moment.

And then tonight -30 spectacular minutes of sunset, moonrise, and birdsong as the winds began to settle down for the night.

The psalmist who wrote Psalm 104 must have understood my plight. Physical metaphors and comparisons are insufficient, though he really tries!

Praise the LORD, my soul.

   LORD my God, you are very great; 

   you are clothed with splendor and majesty.

The LORD wraps himself in light as with a garment; 

   he stretches out the heavens like a tent 

   and lays the beams of his upper chambers on their waters. 

He makes the clouds his chariot 

   and rides on the wings of the wind. 

He makes winds his messengers,

   flames of fire his servants. 

(Psalm 104:1-4, NIV)

Today, all I could do was stand in the presence of the One who rides on the wings of the wind, feel his messengers brush my cheeks and ruffle my hair, and cry, "Glory!"

The first one ... or is it?

Today I enjoyed glorious weather and sunshine to get my flower garden ready for spring.  The annual clean-out includes trimming back perennial plants like salvia greggii, lantana, Russian sage, ruellia; getting excess leaves out of the beds; giving the rose bush a severe haircut; and treating for my ever-present foes, the fire ants.

As a younger woman, I would get the fever with everyone else and march down to the nursery to pick up a flat of annuals, most of which I killed - too impatient, too neglectful.  The idea of flowers was a thrill, but the reality of having them was a downer.  Then I became friends with an older couple who loved to garden.  They shared plants and confidence!  Since then, perennials have been my game.  Several of the items I am growing were gifts shared from others - the purple iris came from my grandmother Lizzy's garden; the white iris from my parents' house in the country; the scabiosa (pincushion flower) from Catherine Rall; the ruellia from Kathy Myrick; the wandering Jew from down at the church building.  So, as each awakens in its turn in the spring, I eagerly anticipate blooms and think of my sweet friends and family.

Now is the time of awakening - of the first things.  The first tiny leaves in the cluster of dry sticks that used to be a lantana, and even a little cluster of a bloom today:

Last week it was the first blossoms of the Bradford pear trees up and down my streets, early harbingers of what is to come.

And, even though in my mind it is "the first," in my spirit I'm reminded that this is the repeat of the creation story all over again that God has reenacted throughout the millennia. Each new bud, each new flower, each new leaf sings of the eternal faithfulness of God.

"Summer and winter, and springtime and harvest; 

Sun, moon and stars in their courses above:

Join with all nature in manifold witness

To Thy great faithfulness, mercy and love.  

Great is Thy faithfulness!  Great is Thy faithfulness!  

Morning by morning new mercies I see. 

All I have needed Thy hand hath provided. 

Great is Thy faithfulness, Lord, unto me."

Father, help me remember with each small creative act of the spring to see You there, and anticipate your creative work in me. And help me get rid of the weeds and leaves that might make me miss what you are doing.