I can look out into the sunless garden and see it bitter, cold, and dismal. Or I can walk out into the barrenness of winter and looking deeply into the cyclamen leaves find rosy buds reaching upward. The brilliant rusty colors of the oakleaf hydrangea rise above the mucky path of moldy leaves and hang on in spite of the damp. The violets bloom, seemingly unaware there is no sun. The red eyes of the peony prepare to shoot up once the sun shines again. Looking out, the garden is dead and uninviting; getting into it reveals life, hanging on, bursting forth and waiting in preparation. For so many times in life, the garden is a mirror, showing us the hand of God.
Romans 5.3-5 "We also rejoice in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope. And hope does not disappoint us, because God has poured out his love into our hearts by the Holy Spirit, whom he has given us."
This is really lovely, Debbie. So insightful.
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