read to feed the soul
Written by FBJ Women for Women
by: Camille Anding
It’s dry! Really dry! The Mill Creek bordering our back yard that usually flows with splashing gurgles after a big rain isn’t gurgling – not even trickling. The river has turned into a dry, dusty ditch.
The small flowering and green oasis that I call my garden is now totally dependent upon my daily watering. I’m well aware that the tree roots are competing and winning for most of the liquid, so the evening watering is mandatory for my thirsty plants.
Azaleas that add wonderful color to our street are wilted and on the verge of their termination. The pot plants and hanging baskets suffer even more. The midday heat-spikes reaching 100+ blanket their leaves and suck any moisture from them. Their only hope rests in my concern for them and the water hose that channels their survival.
The news hasn’t brought relief either. It’s dry – really dry with gloom and doom. The pandemic is rampant, and the death toll of humans killing humans only escalates. “Big news” is about politics, and “little news” is about that sadistic organization that sells babies’ body parts.
Last night, I went to the shutters to close out the night and spotted my piece of garden art that my sweet neighbor had given me. It’s a bronze blossom with a solar center that stores up the oppressive August rays only to release them in the darkness. The sun-powered light glows in changing colors even in the blackest night.
I carry an eternal solar light – the Son of God. In the darkest night and drought-blighted land, that light cannot be extinguished. What a difference God’s people could make if we all heeded the children’s song, “This little light of mine; I’m gonna let it shine.”
“You are the light of the world. A city on a hill cannot be hidden.” Matthew 5:14
Father, Times are so dark, but You are the Light that never leaves. Remind us of your presence. Help us to pray for revival and stay positive, because we Christians know the end of the story! Amen.
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