My emotions get trampled along with the troops and helpless victims in Russia’s war against the Ukraine, and my burdened heart slows my steps. I shake my head in despair and mutter, “Evil. There is no hope in the world.” And then I see a flower.
Rising prices, rising taxes, shrinking finances—I shake my head in despair. And then the little birds in the tree outside my window sing their spring songs of love, joy, and praise and my heart rises higher than food and gas prices, higher than taxes. No one can tax a bird song.
Aches and pains tempt me to stay inside reclining in a chair and let the calories I’ve consumed for the day settle comfortably wherever they want. But I push myself up from the chair to take the dog on a walk and then I see the first spring green on a tree and my heart fills with joy that no physical pain can steal.
Loved ones—sick, weak, or dying to this world. So sad. So helpless. So hopeless. And then I remember the empty tomb and the fact that Jesus lives—and because He lives—hope returns. Because He lives, we will live again after this life in a place where there is no pain, no sorrow, no suffering, no illness, no death, no parting. I smile.
It’s a cold and dreary day. Grey inside. Grey outside. Grey everywhere. And then I see a flower.
Finally, brethren, whatsoever things are true, whatsoever things are noble, whatsoever things are just, whatsoever things are pure, whatsoever things are lovely, whatever things are of good report, if there is any virtue and if there is anything praiseworthy—mediate on these things. Philippians 4:8
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