In my backyard.
Ominous clouds moving eastward.
Looking west, leafed branches move violently.
Winds stir quick movements.
And seconds later I am caught in the squall.
Yet the trees have stilled.
A hawk soars above and catches air.
Normally graceful, but now glides erratically on gusts.
Grass pulsing in invisible currents.
The draft shares lilac's fragrance.
I stand in awe.
I wonder at nature.
Divine art in motion.
Creation orchestrated by Providence.
And I just want that to be me.
Guided by the Author of my soul.
Doing what I was made to do.
Driven by His passion.
Moved by His power.
as He sees fit.
Standing in the yard
just before a storm
and my soul aches
to be directed
by the same Beauty
directing the zephyr.
Winds conceive longing
spirit births Spirit.
And I am reborn in the backyard.
The Spirit of life in Christ, like a strong wind,
has magnificently cleared the air,
freeing you from a fated lifetime of brutal tyranny
at the hands of sin and death.
Romans 8:1 (The Message)