Monday, October 2, 2017

Lillies of the Field


Jesus said, “Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or what you will drink, or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothing? Look at the birds of the air; they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not of more value than they? And can any of you by worrying add a single hour to your span of life? And why do you worry about clothing? Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow; they neither toil nor spin, yet I tell you, even Solomon in all his glory was not clothed like one of these. But if God so clothes the grass of the field, which is alive today and tomorrow is thrown into the oven, will he not much more clothe you—you of little faith? Therefore do not worry, saying, ‘What will we eat?’ or ‘What will we drink?’ or ‘What will we wear?’ For it is the Gentiles who strive for all these things; and indeed your heavenly Father knows that you need all these things. But strive first for the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well. Matthew 6:25-34 

Lilies of the Field

Oh how we worry and spin
tossing and turning at night
believing we can make a plan
that will keep everyone fed and safe.

We think ourselves some minor gods
looking down on the whole situation
making deals for the care and feeding
setting the world right by our might.

In every season we torment ourselves
missing the summer warmth for stress
avoiding the winter's silent delights
distracted while the children sing.

We are worth more than gold and lilies
more than the eagles, the ravens, the whale
we ache for love in our deep sadness
while it lives all around us in the light.

May we stop and breathe today
for we are loved beyond measure
children precious in God's sight
surrounded by arms that embrace us all.

Arms that embrace the broken and incomplete
the angry, the sorrowing and the lost
love that lifts us up beyond this pain
arms that hold us as we cry and as we dance.

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