|
|
![]() "It's like being in a terrible storm for half of your life, and all of a sudden, the roaring waves start to calm." |
Today, I realized I've made a great step forward mentally, physically, and spiritually. For the first time in many years I'm able to "take in" the beauty of nature and to enjoy the "awesomeness" of God's Creation as I enjoy the benefits of His wondrous blessings. |
I got up this morning, felt the warmth of the sun, heard the birds singing, watched as "mother and daddy to be" birds busily gathered twigs and assembled their nest, and watched as two squirrels out in the yard playfully chased each other from tree to tree. These things had been going on years before, but this is the first spring in many, many years I can remember taking time to absorb my surroundings as I reflected on it's beauty. It's like coming upon a refreshing stream when you are thirsty; you just keep wanting to drink in more and more to quench the thirst. |
![]() |
It felt good to hold my head up again and to engage in friendly conversation with friends, family, and complete strangers, without the stabbing and aching joint pains. My body feels stronger after being weakened for so long. I remember the times my arms and hands were so debilitated, my husband had to feed me; or the times I cried out to God because I wanted to walk again. |
![]() |
John 16:33 These things I have spoken unto you, that in me ye might have peace. In the world ye shall have tribulation: but be of good cheer; I have overcome the world. |
| Editor's Note: Dinah shared the above Abundance of the Heart on a forum. In response, Mary Beck wrote the following poem. |
| Dinah's Spring
Oh Lord I am so blessed today I fed myself I bowed to pray And I hear the birds outside They cheep about the way of pride So thank you for the feet I have When they don't hurt I hardly know How good to be alive and breath My husband and my children grieve When I am sad I'm not alone And when I hurt some carry on To dry my tears and hold my hand So thank you Lord for your great love And for your son sent from above.
By Mary Beck
|
|
HOME |