On my way home from work today, I stopped by the house I don't live in to pick up the mail. As noted, I still have to pay the bills. The yard needs mowing, and the area around the front walk and the flower beds in the sideyard need weeding. There's a great burst of something unwanted coming through a crack in the driveway, thriving until I can get at it with some RoundUp.
I unlocked the door and walked through the house, just to assure myself that everything was okay on the inside. Other than smelling slightly shut up, all was well.
I left feeling discouraged, thinking about this state of limbo in which I find myself. I know I will get there, and in the long run, the six months that have passed will be inconsequential. But in that moment, I pulled out of the driveway,wondering when I would get there.
I passed a Methodist church that always has a pithy saying on the sign out front, and I've made a habit of checking the message when I drive past - if for no other reason than I love a good pun. Today, there was no wit, no wordplay. Just "The Joy of the Lord is Your Strength. Neh. 8:10." I pondered it as I came to the yield sign, looked to the left and then pulled onto old 441. When I looked back right, a smidgen of a rainbow was smeared across the clouds above the trees.
At home, I looked up Nehemiah 8:10. And lo and behold, the words just before the part quoted on the sign are "do not grieve." "Do not grieve, for the joy of the Lord is your strength." Couple that with a rainbow, the sign of God's covenant with the earth. A symbol of peace and of hope. A reminder of the very shortly passed storm, its turbulence and fury, and the beauty that emerges after. A promise.
Rainbow photo via Life in the Bristolwood.
2024 Update (12 years)
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