At my home nestled near the mountains on the southwest edge of Denver, we’ve had nearly four feet of snow since the first of the year. Our yard has not been clear for months. Though it has been much needed moisture to break our devastating drought, we’ve grown weary of the weekly storms. Then several days of brilliant blue skies and coatless warm days arrived. I sighed and hoped and let the sun warm my heart. Then another snow came, wet, heavy, and cold. It reminded me of how often this is the emotional pattern of life. Warm hope dashed with cold. Unexpected weight following a light dawn. Today’s Sunday Psalm speaks to that reality and I pray it lifts the weight by God’s grace.
God of seasons:
It is not always darkest before the dawn.
Flowering sunrise shines light on the troubles of the day.
Dawn shadows follow dark along the path
That newborn promise and grizzled distress walk side-by-side.
The heaviest spring snows smother after winter breaks.
Trees bowed down from unexpected weight.
Rays of the new season shrouded by retuning clouds,
Hearts heavied from warm hope’s blossom nipped.
No Atlases are we; stooped but muscles rippling.
Rather our shoulders droop under burden reborn.
Rebirth instead our strength by your gentle breath.
Feed us on your body and blood.
Fill our minds with your unchanging word.
Shore us up with the arms of friends.
Give us time for sacred rest.
Hear our prayers and speak in return
That each dawn and season no matter how light or dark
Holds your truth.
Lift our unexpected wait.