There has been a lot of snow this winter. Partnered with the occasional freezing rain it has put significant weight on tree branches and roofs. Our yard is still a maze of limbs. Ben no longer takes out the compost because the path is blocked. Local tree trimmers probably have long lists of customers lined up. I am not sure if the trampoline
survived the wet weight. It too looks impenetrable with sticks.
I met with a friend whose life feels extraordinarily heavy. It was all I could do not to stamp my feet or cry, but then again he cried enough for both of us. His marriage is in the final throes of a heartbreaking death. I wanted to clear away the brambles, and lift off the burden of unkindness that is oppressing him. I wondered if he will snap under the pressure.
This
morning, while I continued to think about and pray for him and his children, I read a short promise.
For those who trust in the Divine all things are moving towards an everlasting state of happiness, and no matter what happens at any time to them, it contributes to that state.
Heavenly Secrets 8478:3, Emanuel Swedenborg
A calm breeze blew into my heart. Maybe, no certainly, God has not forgotten
him.
While my yard looks like a graveyard of maimed trees, part of me holds on to the belief that Spring will again turn her face toward us. Dead branches may litter the ground, but secret life is tucked into the trees themselves. In less time than it takes to get a passport they will emerge from the deadwood and offer up green fingerlings of hope.
My prayer is that in less time than it takes for a sapling to stretch its limbs my
friend will again feel new life coursing through his tired body. Perhaps my prayers are part of the energy that will wake up his internal spring. It might be his passport to a whole new country.
