I find I cant walk past the roses in all their glory without marveling at their beauty and colour. It seems every day the bush is not as it was yesterday. My walk may take me past a tree, a summer wattle about to burst into fragrant, pale yellow miniature balls of aroma far more obviously ready to burst open today than it looked yesterday and the mother magpie, a lone gatherer yesterday now has two persistent squawking babies fussing around her to be fed. Frederick Beuchner said: If you think you are seeing the same show all over again seven times a week, you're crazy. Every morning you wake up to something that in all eternity never was before and will never be the same again.
Grace and peace from the Lord Jesus Christ.
Anne, servant of the Lord.
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| now they were not there yesterday! |
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