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.
Micah 7:19
"I, even I, am
the one who wipes out your transgressions for My own sake; and I will not
remember your sins"
Isaiah 43:25'
Cris
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