Spring is beginning to appear in lovely shades of yellow, pink, purple, white, red, green and a blend of many other shades — all spread out nicely under rays of gold and skies of blue. The tiny, blue flowers are up, a nice surprise of spring. Where have they been all winter? Lying dormant, deep under ground?
Many worthwhile stories are being written and I am writing none of them.
Beauty is many things. It is the sun rising above the timberline to give its light to a dark and waiting world. It is the sound of a loved one’s voice when an eternity has elapsed since you last heard the familiar echoes in your heart. It is the violet beside the road, the Sweet Williams, the rose petals and budding oaks in spring. It is the voice of a friend when you need someone who understands. There is a secret– the beholder of beauty must open not only his eyes but his heart if he is to see the total realm of beauty. Like the ivy across a trellis, beauty and love intertwine, the one depends upon the other. Together they stand out in all their splendor.
I felt joy when I looked at my firstborn son,
who arrived during a deep Kansas snow.
I called him “Little Precious”
when a nurse brought him to me. He was
my first and three other children came after him,
each bringing its own beaming joy to my young
heart; their first smiles were reasons to be glad;
their first blowing of spit bubbles from tiny
puckered lips made me laugh; they could sound
like cars or airplane engines accelerating for missions
like those that took their daddy halfway around the
world from us. I felt joy when he returned safely to us;
happiness beyond explanation when he winked his
way back into the graces of the wee ones who had
forgotten him in those long months.
Love is joy and joy is love.
God is love and He is in all the joy I have known,
causing my heart to refresh because of past joyful times.
Complete joy comes from weaving threads of laughter
onto a background of love-patched fabric in such a way
that only the brightest colors show.