As I awaken to the rain, I feel the chill of the air outside. I always leave a window open in my bedroom in order to breathe fresh air overnight. The combination of drizzle and fog creates a heavy haze which hangs over the morning and my heart.
I know I shouldn’t, but I listen to the news: Congress’ attempt to gut the Independent Ethics Committee; another 39 people shot down in a nightclub; partisan politics, theology and racism still dividing the country.
Sometimes, I truly want to turn my back on it all, pull the covers over my head and stay there; become a hermit and never come out again.
On the other hand, I have this knowing deep within my soul that whenever I feel like a lone deer in a wilderness of hunters, I need to recall John 15:5.
“I am the Vine, you are the branches. When you’re joined with me and I with you, the relation intimate and organic, the harvest is sure to be abundant. Separated, you can’t produce a thing.” The Message (John 15:5)
When I look up at the branches of the trees outside my window, I am reminded of who I am. I am a branch of the Vine, an artery of His beating Heart. I cannot exist without Jesus’ lifeblood running through me. The times I am not attentive to the Spirit’s existence within me are the times I lose hope. The moments I fail to remember I am enfolded in my Father’s embrace are the moments I succumb to the crushing weight of the world.
While the fog may cloud my view outside, my faith gives me clarity of view from the inside. I know God’s voice and I cherish it. I am comforted by His extravagant love and overwhelming grace. I am His beloved daughter, and I rise to greet the day.