A Psalm

I was praying about what to write and share and I kept coming back to a psalm that my wife wrote the other day. So this weeks devotional is written by Melissa Dahir. I hope that it encourages you and inspires to run to the feet of the Lord and linger there for a while. He sure loves your company.

A Psalm
Written by Melissa Dahir

Have you ever observed a tree,
Lush and green and fruitful,
As the chilly hands of autumn creep in
And begin to prepare nature for the solace of winter?
The sunlight decreases, greedily stealing its warmth
And the crisp winds begin to blow--
Colder each day, freezing well into the nights.
And the tree, the beautiful, blossoming tree
Begins a transformation.
Her foliage turns from deep, luscious green,
Rich with raindrops, dew and nutrients,
Into brittle, brown decay.
The windy breath of earth blusters through,
Shaking the last few remnants of health from her limbs
Until she stands alone
Naked. Empty. Forgotten.
But have you ever noticed
That she does not resist this process?
She does not cling tightly to her leaves,
To her mere temporary covering,
Crying, “Come back! I will not let you depart from me. I need you too desperately to let you go. I am lost without you!”
She does not cower, ashamed of her unclothed body.
She does not try to grasp that which was not hers in the first place.
No.
Instead, she stands strong against the ripping wind
Brave against the bone-chilling cold
Unafraid. Without bitterness. Without regret.
In fact, with branches stretched from root to tip, all the way out to her Maker,
She readily embraces the storms that arrive
Trusting that He will be there
To protect, to provide, to nourish.
She knows He will clothe her again, more beautifully than before
And her leaves will again give shade to the weary
And her fruit will again be food for the hungry
And when the fierceness of winter has abated
When the silence is no longer foreboding, but instead whispers, “Peace,”
She looks down at her dry, barren branch
And she sees the tiniest green bud
Yawning, and stretching its arms to the warmth of the Son.