send some rain
would You send some rain
cause the earth is dry
and needs to drink again
or maybe not
not today
maybe You'll provide in other ways
and if that's the case
we'll give thanks to You
with gratitude
a lesson learned in how to thirst for You
how to bless the very sun that warms our face
if You never send us rain
-nichole nordeman
On paper, this might seem a strange time to be pondering gratitude, to attempt a continual immersing of my soul in a pool of thanks. Much to be disquieted in spirit over, at least by any mortal standard. And yet I find my weary, lonely heart returning to this prostrate position, facedown before the Giver of All Good Gifts, grateful for all, for all is gift, all is good that He works together. He is doubtlessly at work here.
In my deepest places, the most true and least seen, I sense a quiet resignation. No lament or mournful accusation over grievances endured, no fanfare or dramatic unveiling of higher wisdom attained. Reticent with genuine gratitude, green and small with the newness and promise of Spring, a tender budding. Giving up my say, my false semblance of control, my call for rain. Accepting as a gift that all is good, whether I can discern the inherent goodness or not. Withstanding the drying and the heat, focusing my intention to bless the kiss of warmth upon my face. Trusting at last the Orchestrator I claimed to trust all along, and catching back up to His masterful melody when I inevitably begin to fumble with the notes. Changing not my circumstances but my approach. Even if nothing else ever changes. Recognizing that it is well, that all is well, whether floating on peace like a river or through sorrow like sea billows, when Thou wilt whisper Thy peace to my soul.
For I was not placed here to merely measure up, and the standard to which I aspire is far from mortal. My business is with here, with now. With a life abundant not once this or after that but in the present. To be present. Existing in this moment that is, that I may meet I Am. Thirsting after nothing else but His presence that quenches. Convinced again of His intricate designs, His boundless power, His overwhelming love, what else have I to do but surrender, to fall before Him with heart and soulfelt thanks? Understanding that it is not mine to understand, only to accept from the One who is and always has been exactly what He said He is, to believe what I have always said I do.
With gratitude.
cause the earth is dry
and needs to drink again
or maybe not
not today
maybe You'll provide in other ways
and if that's the case
we'll give thanks to You
with gratitude
a lesson learned in how to thirst for You
how to bless the very sun that warms our face
if You never send us rain
-nichole nordeman
On paper, this might seem a strange time to be pondering gratitude, to attempt a continual immersing of my soul in a pool of thanks. Much to be disquieted in spirit over, at least by any mortal standard. And yet I find my weary, lonely heart returning to this prostrate position, facedown before the Giver of All Good Gifts, grateful for all, for all is gift, all is good that He works together. He is doubtlessly at work here.In my deepest places, the most true and least seen, I sense a quiet resignation. No lament or mournful accusation over grievances endured, no fanfare or dramatic unveiling of higher wisdom attained. Reticent with genuine gratitude, green and small with the newness and promise of Spring, a tender budding. Giving up my say, my false semblance of control, my call for rain. Accepting as a gift that all is good, whether I can discern the inherent goodness or not. Withstanding the drying and the heat, focusing my intention to bless the kiss of warmth upon my face. Trusting at last the Orchestrator I claimed to trust all along, and catching back up to His masterful melody when I inevitably begin to fumble with the notes. Changing not my circumstances but my approach. Even if nothing else ever changes. Recognizing that it is well, that all is well, whether floating on peace like a river or through sorrow like sea billows, when Thou wilt whisper Thy peace to my soul.
For I was not placed here to merely measure up, and the standard to which I aspire is far from mortal. My business is with here, with now. With a life abundant not once this or after that but in the present. To be present. Existing in this moment that is, that I may meet I Am. Thirsting after nothing else but His presence that quenches. Convinced again of His intricate designs, His boundless power, His overwhelming love, what else have I to do but surrender, to fall before Him with heart and soulfelt thanks? Understanding that it is not mine to understand, only to accept from the One who is and always has been exactly what He said He is, to believe what I have always said I do.
With gratitude.
