I love the rain in the mornings, especially in the spring time.
It's almost as if the falling of rain brings new life to things. Everything smells sweet. There is really nothing else like it. There is something magical about each season. They each have their own distinct character. My old soul rejoices for the beginning of each new season, of each new found adventure the fresh season will bring.
What is it about the magic of the earth? It's there. There's something there. There is something greater than us. Humanity is a miniscule part of the earth. However, we are called to cultivate it and to foster it and that is an incredible calling. I find joy in this cultivation. I find so much joy in noticing the natural rythyms of earth. Would it go on without us? This all points wildly at our Creator God. Everything is screaming out the worship that is due His name. "Even the rocks cry out". I see this all the more in the spring time.
The mornings are a special time. Everything, everything asks us to start again. There is something amazing about a fresh start. Grace is an illustration of this springtime, fresh rainy morning.
Grace lives here and our Creator is a God of grace. Everything asks to be scarred with grace, to start new.
I see all of this in the spring time, especially in the morning.