Saturday, November 10, 2012
The temptation of tumbleweeds beckons us all,
Rolling and bumping like the cursed eight ball.
Trying butts in to steal Trusting's turn,
Concealing the danger like a snake fern.
Lord, let me be that River-side tree
Ever-sipping the stream traced back to the sea.
The roots are unseen, but I can feel you there,
Like the steady creek of a rocking chair.
Though the stream is tiny and the sea far away
I will believe in the sea in the drought of this day.
"God's Message: "Cursed is the strong one who depends on mere humans, Who thinks he can make it on muscle alone and sets God aside as dead weight. He's like a tumbleweed on the prairie, out of touch with the good earth. He lives rootless and aimless in a land where nothing grows. "But blessed is the man who trusts me, God, the woman who sticks with God. They're like trees replanted in Eden, putting down roots near the rivers - Never a worry through the hottest of summers, never dropping a leaf, Serene and calm through droughts, bearing fresh fruit every season." Jeremiah 17:5-8 (Msg)
"I ask not for a lighter burden, but for broader shoulders." – Jewish Proverb