The earth and everything on it belongs to the Lord. The world and its people belong to him. The Lord placed all of it on the oceans and the rivers. Psalm 24:1
God looked at everything He had done. All of it was very good! Evening came and then morning─ that was the sixth day. Genesis 1:31
I smell the mud the rain makes in the big tin wash tub filled stump dirt and bejeweled with petunias, red Salvia and creeping Charley. The scent released by a large area of freshly laid mulch, as it is gently watered by the heavens, carries the aroma of lake edges and water soaked logs floating in a spring fed pond. It is early summer; God is tending his Kentucky earth with all his nature can afford, in just the right amounts and at the right time. It could be the sixth day, when God observed his handy-work; everything was in working order...on next day he rested.
The roots of our corn crop are digging deep into the soil, due to an early and timely dry spell in the spring. Now the warm rains have come; the green shoots are dancing on top of this world in the soft winds the Lord Creator breaths into being. He seems pleased to bless this land and give it His providential watch care.
With so little snow in the winter months, we could be in drought now. A moist, thick, and fresh woodsy scent fills my house, with its open windows and doors and, I am reminded that the one who spoke this world and its weather systems into being is Lord of all. The precious rains have been abundant but not harmful, and the earth swells with a healthy pregnancy and fills the air with exciting expectations.
In this stage of my life, every season is to be celebrated and when God sends a perfect one, I tend to take it personally. I pray to have unabashed joy and give unbidden praise for blessings in the things I have no control over, such as a slow rain that all soaks into the ground, as though God is slaking the thirst of one totally dependent on Him. I hear the low rumble of outlying thunder as it, in turn, speaks an Amen, and Amen!
I know the hot dry days will come, or the humidity that brings the understanding of how it feels to wade on the bottom of a river while breathing out in a puff, but hating to breathe in. Days will come when the sky is rolling with clouds, promising rain but never delivering; the flat days, holding no ups; no downs just morning, noon and restless nights.
The earth, though busy with growth is also at the same time resting in the Father’s hand, and it will be there if the bad times come, and the same is true for me. In the loveliest of times I praise and so happily accept blessings. In the hard, arid times of life when the landscape of my heart seems as parched, pale, and cracked as a lonely desert land, I am still held carefully and lovingly in His hand.
A desolate climate of the soul is the perfect atmosphere for growth. Blessings may appear dim, and praises are uttered with trepidation, still an underlying growth is taking place as faith becomes a palatable thing, and I desire a stronger and stronger dose.
With an awareness of His presence, my faith grows; courage and patience stir within, and trust overwhelms my fear. A spiritual blooming is near, and I’m beginning to have that fresh woodsy aroma in my fertile heart, as it is washed clean by a rising tide of the love of God, gently raining down on me.
Guided by his touch, I have done all I can do, I give my seasons to him; this could be my sixth day.
~ Scripture: Contemporary English Version (CEV)
THE SIXTH DAY
Posted by R.B. Riddle at 7:28 AM