I lit three candles to set the tone, two on the coffee table and one next to my seat. The cold wicker chair against my backside was a gentle reminder that it was not yet summertime. The streetlights were still on and the day was about to break.
I could feel the cool breeze in the air whispering to me saying, “spring is still here.” I watched as the steam rolled off my coffee cup and into the air, disappearing into the morning silence. The front porch is a peaceful place to be just before dawn.
I reserve the first part of my day, cheering on the sun as it breaks through the darkness, otherwise known as the changing of the guards.
The birds have become my friends, I have convinced myself that God has sent them straight to my street to sing me a melody of songs. Ancient readings, journal writing and reflections of truth have become my morning routine.
Her car rolled up to the curb, she quietly she made her way from her front seat to my front porch. I could only make out her silhouette as she approached the patio, candles flickering in the background gave just enough light for me to see the smile across my friend face as she joined me for my early morning meditation .
We would ever so softly speak to one another, sharing the fresh revelations we were receiving and then going back to our souls and settling into the stillness. We ended our hour in thoughts, encouragement and prayer.
She too fell in love with the choir made of birds and was catching the profound peace that was found by being still on the porch. Silence between us told of a trust between two friends.
All of a sudden, the roaring of a motorized beast came bolting down the street, the green machine. I had forgotten it was trash day when I had invited my friend to join me.
All was well with my soul until the beast set sail in front of my driveway, a few feet from the front porch, my inner sanctuary was being disturbed and it did not matter how much I shushed the truck it refused to take a request and come back later.
My peace went to anxiety as the noise of the trash truck became louder, containers of litter were lifted, dumped and dropped abruptly to the ground.
My eyes followed as the garbage truck methodically removed my trash with its big metal claws from my side of the street, up and over and into its mouth.
I found myself absorbed in the experience, watching and seeing the similarity between garbage day and the creators healing hands on my life, the whole actions appeared to resonate with my soul. I found my anxiousness turning into gratitude.
In the blink of an eye, garbage trucks made me glad, in that moment I was reminded about the truth of Jesus and how He chose to take my trash to the landfill (sea) of forgetfulness never to be seen again.
He loved me so much that He stretched out His arms and said it is finished and away it went. Instead of metal claws, metal nails took my trash away.
Tuesday is trash day on my street. I will use this day to reflect on all that has been redeemed. I will use this day to make a list of how He turned my trash into treasures and cleaned up my curb.
No more will I find the green mechanical monster annoying . When I hear the sound of the steel truck coming down the street I will rejoice and be glad and never try to take back what He took away. Garbage trucks make me grateful!
He will again have compassion on us; he will tread our iniquities underfoot. He will cast all our sins into the depths of the sea.
"I, even I, am the one who wipes out your transgressions for My own sake; and I will not remember your sins"