Hope In the Woods

Like Robert Frost’s on a snowy evening, my woods are “lovely dark and deep” Even on a gray early morning like this.

And no matter the season, they are a window with a non-stop, open invitation to stop and pause…

And slow down and breathe deeply…

And be still…

And in the stillness, be thrilled to hear this day off in the distance the familiar songs of early spring birds.

The same ones you hear on a warm summer night!

To take time to fill your heart and soul with simple gratitude…

It’s a new day, “let us rejoice and be glad in it.”

To let your mind wander a bit to the day ahead,

And even a bit randomly, but perhaps perfectly, to ballplayers gathering under warm sunshine for spring training—where everyone is hopeful, no one has lost a game, and no matter what happened last year, all begin with a clean slate ready to be filled with dreams and goals.

So good.

But even better to find your thoughts suddenly shift to this:

That no matter how many faults and blemishes you can see in yourself,

No matter how bad your morning breath may be,

The God who made you and formed you for an abundant life loves you incredibly anyway.

(And besides, it is His breath in your lungs, so how can it be bad?)

A time to focus on that sun trying ever-so-hard to break through the cloud cover and remembering some favorite words…

“Let the morning bring me word of Your unfailing love, for I have put my trust in You. Show me the way I should go, for to You I entrust my life.” (Psalm 143:8)

Amen. Sometimes, simple prayers are the very best.

These woods that are “lovely dark and deep” at 6 a.m., and have an aroma of earth

That’s almost as intoxicating as the smell of cookies in the oven

Will likely be, according to the forecast, like Robert Frost’s later this week.

Such is the tease of late February and March in New England.

But “to everything there is a season,” even this one.

Because through all of its up and downs, this early morning pause is a reminder that life is good.

Because God is still faithful.

He hasn’t left the building.

And though the morning clouds have now covered the sunrise glow in the east,

In the stillness, my woods that are “lovely dark and deep” are nevertheless shouting encouragement:

“May the God of hope fill you with joy and peace in your faith, that by the power of the Holy Spirit, your whole life and outlook may be radiant with hope.” (Romans 15:13)

Here we go!…