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Monday, March 08, 2010

When I can't breathe I go outside, lie on the ground, and let the trees envelop me like a cocoon. Like swaddling a baby, I am enclosed, I feel secure, and the trees breathe air back into my empty lungs. Sometimes I think that Heavenly Father put trees on the earth just so I could get through this. He is wrapping that swaddling blanket around me, drawing me into his arms, and rocking me until I am calm.

Where, when my aching grows, Where when I languish,
Where, in my need to know, Where can I run?
Where is the quiet hand to calm my anguish?
Who, who can understand? He, only one.

He answers privately, Reaches my reaching
In my Gethsemane, Savior and friend.
Gentle the peace he finds for my beseeching.
Constant He is and kind, love without end.

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