Teeming life

Eight swans are flying over the deep water, back and forth. A beautiful sight. But I’m most fond of the faithful pair who tend their nest among the cat tails only a few hundred feet from our waterfront. By the next time we come, they’ll have one or more cygnets paddling around with them. Unless the big turtles get them. There are always risks for all this teeming life. Something (probably English sparrows) ate the bluebird eggs, and the would-be parents are gone. A great blue heron flew in and perched on the dredging machine in front of our dock, waiting motionless for an unsuspecting fish to swim by and become his breakfast. The hummingbirds are continuing to enjoy the nectar I put out for them.

I’ve been feeding my mind on Isaiah 40. Here are the closing verses [with personal comments in brackets] as paraphrased in The Message.

Don’t you know anything? Haven’t you been listening?
God doesn’t come and go. God lasts.
[I need this reminder.]
He’s Creator of all you can see or imagine.
He doesn’t get tired out, doesn’t pause to catch his breath.
[Unlike me—always tired, always out of breath these days.]
And he knows everything—inside and out.
[That would include happenings at the cellular level, and the cause of every twinge of pain.]
He energizes those who get tired,
Gives fresh strength to dropouts.
For even young people tire and drop out,
Young folk in their prime stumble and fall.
But those who wait upon God get fresh strength. . . .
[So I’ve been trying to stretch my mind and soul to grasp what it means to actively, intentionally, wait on God. I surely need what he promises to those who do so.]

…The heron just flew off. Guess he got tired of “waiting.”

We’ll be traveling all day tomorrow. We’re thankful that our family here is now safely back together.

Love,
Carol