The crepe myrtles were slow to bloom this summer.
Every morning, I’ve been slower to begin my day, to get to work. I pause in parked car, linger a few minutes, praying something like. “Okay, Lord this is where you’ve placed, help me to give it my all.”
And then, I’d wait a few seconds more as I gazed towards the wiry branches of crepe myrtle tree, scattered with verdant green leaves, the morning sunbeams creating pattern and contrast.
The quiet beauty of sunlight on leaf, causing me to rest, to trust.
My prayers becoming more of listening than speaking
Of understanding more than fulfillment of desire
Of acceptance of the one thing left hanging or waiting to see, the thorn remaining, yet not harming.
Reminding me of need to seek, to befriend the giver of grace sufficient and abundant.
My prayers have become more of listening with patience and a calmer anticipation. Waiting prayerfully, not for fulfillment of request, but for the relationship of God’s gentle embrace.
Let the morning bring me word of your unfailing love, for I am trusting you. Psalm 143:3
The crepe myrtle that canopies my spot bloomed on Thursday. I stopped to look towards the sky, grabbed hold of a branch, bending it down to pick one for my desk. The beauty of waiting adorned my desk, little tissue paper type petals bunched together, a delicate reminder of God’s Sovereign and graceful hand.
Later, I walked, the habitual end to my day. Closer to sundown than usual because of a hard and unexpected phone call.
I walked and I prayed, at peace.
Then, I noticed God. A crescent moon and a pink sky.
God is in the details and the waiting. Don’t forget to notice.
I linking up with Jennifer Dukes Lee.