I came to summer barefoot, tiptoeing in the cool night upon green blades.
I rested my back against a haystack that tickled my spine, teasing me to smile… which I did.
A bird stopped for a visit, tapping his beak on the ground. He gave me a farewell serenade before taking flight toward the moon.
Something about him left me yearning — yearning either for his returning presence or his ability to fly.
Where would I have gone in my years if I had the ability to fly?
In truth, I would have flown to all the places my feet have traveled if it would bring me back to this moment, this breath, this patch of peace.
I do not have to strain my eyes or neck far to see the blessings before me: what is meant for me, God has always provided.
If I lack anything, it is, at times, failing to see Him more than my circumstances.
Frustration comes from fear of things beyond my control, and yet, these things can spin my mind into knots.
Things. So many things.
“But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well” (Matthew 6:33).
Even though I know otherwise, I often behave as if my worrying can change outcomes. How arrogant. How foolish. I toil for the sake of salvaging some ounce of control rather than submitting to God’s power to provide — provide regardless of the outcome.
In elevating my worry, I reduce my ability to discern God’s will.
Only by humbling myself and submitting fully to God can I discern what requires my immediate attention and what requires my patience and perseverance.
To worry and fuss or to pray, thanking God in advance for whatever outcome He provides: Which is a better use of the time given to me today?
Forgive me, God, for the many times I have misused the breath You gave me by speaking to my fears more than speaking to You.
I learned from the little bird who stopped for a visit. I noticed his delicate wings fully spread as he trusted the wind to raise him to a higher position.
Even before taking flight, the bird sang, putting praise into the air. Ahh, to soar in the air already filled with faith. Shall I not aspire to do the same?
In this pursuit, I realize God will faithfully provide according to His will and timing, and I can trust the Source of my strength over any situation.
“Look at the birds of the air: they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not of more value than they? And which of you by being anxious can add a single hour to his span of life?” (Matthew 6:26-27).
This column was initially published by CherryRoad Media. ©Tiffany Kaye Chartier.