The squirrels are collecting and burying nuts; the horses are circling the field in the rain; the leaves are beginning the long slow process of changing hue; the wind is gently sweeping away the ones that have volunteered to fly first.
All is well out my window on this fall afternoon as if nature was born of faith.
And all is well with the spirit too.
Even in dramatic changes and challenges, the spirit remains calm and steady.
Even in our confusion and indecision, the spirit remains strong and sure.
Even in depression and defeat, the spirit remains wise and well.
Even in our most profound brokenness and exhaustion, the spirit remains whole.
The other day as I stood on the split rail fence visiting the horses, I saw two tiny spotted fawns grazing on the other side of the field, sharing the space with their muscular friends, looking up at me with happy curiosity.
Every few minutes they would jump straight up, bump sides in a mid-air high-five, then frolic a bit and go back to grazing.
The joyful little guys bravely migrated closer and closer to me, daring each other to go first.
I stepped slowly off the fence, offered them love, and started walking slowly up to the cabin.
When I got to the door, I turned to see them right behind me with ears up, trusting, wondering, waiting.
They were too young to be afraid.
They were born of faith, believing in a benevolent world. Knowing that all was well.
And so can we be today—open, patient, vulnerable—trusting that all is well with the soul.
We have learned fear, but we were born of faith.
And to faith we can return.
In The World:
In The Heart:
Faith sees the invisible, believes the unbelievable and receives the impossible. —Corrie ten Boom
Two little guys ...