(This is me baring my soul.)
I've been reading slowly through the Psalms
this summer--for a year, actually. Recently I sat in my back yard next to the
blooming chives alive with bees and read Psalm 90. I find this psalm somewhat
melancholy. Perhaps reading it in late summer intensifies the feeling of the
brevity of life--the grass fading and flower withering. If I am promised
seventy years--and that is the stated normal lifespan-- then I'm potentially in
my last decade. My opportunities to watch the bees in the chives and the yellow
butterflies on pink morning glories are quickly passing.
It's difficult for me to imagine I won't
miss this when it's all over: the birds in the trees, late summer bugs chirring
in the woods and fields, a blue jay's cry overhead. Somewhere a rooster crows,
and soft summer sun falls through the branches of a maple on the back
lawn. I can hardly bear the beauty of it.
Even as I grieve the passing of summer, the possibility for life
and growth fading as the days get slowly darker, I am reminded to "sing for joy and
be glad all [my] days" (14). Surely a God who can orchestrate such
loveliness for a short season has an amazingly wonderful plan for eternity. His
will for you and me is to love the life He has so graciously given. This, by
God's grace, I will endeavor to do.
--Sherry Poff
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