We are troubled on every side, yet not distressed;
we are perplexed, but not in despair;
Persecuted, but not forsaken;
cast down, but not destroyed
2 Corinthians 4:8-9
Though he may stumble, he will not fall,
for the Lord upholds him with his hand.
(a tiny volunteer pansy pops up between the driveway and the brick walk / Julie Cook / 2014)
Perhaps it is the unseasonable weather.
Perhaps it is the grey sky.
Perhaps it is the stressful holidays.
Perhaps it is the burdens of life
Perhaps it is the numerous funerals of late.
Perhaps it is the recent news of loss and death.
Perhaps it is the sudden transitions of life
Perhaps it is the news. . .
Head cast down, eyes now dimmed, starring blankly at nothing
As a heavy invisible weight pushes shoulders ever more downward and bent
The usual quick and brisk gait now laboriously hindered.
Gone are the lush colors of the vibrant growth of life.
The greyness of melancholy wraps its spindly arms around any and all
While joy and hope seem to have vanished with the sun.
And just as the bleakness seems to swallow up any remaining sense of purpose,
Out of a tiny crack, wedged tightly between pavement and walkway, a tiny ray of Love raises its head for all to see.
A small yet powerful and potent reminder of a never-ending love constantly present yet often times forgotten and overlooked between a Father and His child.
“Remember, I am with you always. . .” whispers the tiny bloom.