Why are we surprised when resistance raises a hoard against us?

When did we start to believe life was an easy stroll down the lane?

What history book or person of age lied with such constancy?

Do the mountains endure the whips of the wind? Pounding of the rain?

Do the trees withstand the storm surge? Dodge lighting?

And what of the river? Its bed a record of endless change?

Indeed, why are we surprised when the wind howls hard against our face?

Where is it written we should expect anything less?

No, we should not expect less.

My Lord, teach us to take our eyes off the storms of circumstance and our fruitless need to control the flow of life.

Let us be like the enduring mountain, a monument to your Glory.

Let us be like the trees, a shelter to the weak, and fresh air to the weary.

May we always live in the reality of the river, that we are full of life and purpose, a source of joy and peace.

Thank you for the sunny hour and cool of the day.