S E A S O N S

S E A S O N S

                                                     
   When I feel unloved and unwanted by my husband, when I remember the countless times he was unfaithful to me for the first seven years of our marriage, I have a hard time believing that anyone can love me, even God.

      When I remember my dad, always absent even when in my presence, when I remember his unfaithfulness to my mother and his eventual desertion, I feel like that is also who God is; unfaithful, untrustworthy, and just biding His time until he will abandon me forever.

      These are lies. GOD IS GOOD. God is merciful and just and holy and God is faithful. Jesus is faithful. The Holy Spirit is faithful.    Yet in the darkness, in the loneliness, in the mire; I do not feel what I know is true. I am alone in the darkness of my mind, and see no light.    And yet, is the Light not there? Perhaps my eyes are closed too tight to see Him.

    God, grant me eyes that want to see You and only You.    Help me to cling to what I know to be right, even when I feel completely alone.

Fifteenth Year

Unpublished Sketch by 

Susan Kobzev

   

Spring

Spring by Elysia

Spring

 Summer   

Autumn 

                                 Winter 

6.18.18

                                                      J U N E 18 2018 

    June is here at last, and that sweet elusive scent of bluebells and the soft warm scent of ferns.  Silver vases range across the mantelpiece and countertops, brimming with wild bounty.
      Flowers, flowers everywhere and all to be had for the taking. Thick sprays of chokecherry blossoms in a thick crystal vase, so tall they brush the chandelier that hangs over the dining table.    Small bunches of wild roses, their rounded green leaves pointing up and out and everywhere, the yellow stamens in stark contrast but still perfect unity with the rounded pink petals, proving once and for all that pink truly does belong with yellow. Dandelions like tiny, forceful suns crowding their way down the hill and into the lawn, and Naomi crouched in the long grass, her golden head like yet another ray of sunshine. The lupins we transplanted three years ago are finally growing like the beautiful,  decadent, glorious weeds that they are, their blue spears thrusting towards an even bluer sky. 

   Oh God, to see you as my King- that is what I long for. Not just my friend and brother, not only  my Creator and my savior- but my King. 

     Summer is here, and it is full and rich and good. May we enjoy each moment to the brim.

The name of the Lord is a strong tower; the righteous run to it and are set aloft.

                        Proverbs 18.10