The well of Providence is deep. It’s the buckets we bring to it that are small.
Mary Webb, 1881-1927
Scottish Religious Leader, Writer, Poet
May your roots go down deep into the soil of God’s marvelous love; and may you be able to feel and understand…how long, how wide, how deep, and how high His love really is.
When on the moss-green hill the wandering wind
Drowses, and lays his brazen trumpet down,
When snow-fed waters gurgle, cold and brown,
And wintered birds creep from the stacks to find
Solace, while each bright eye begins to see
A visionary nest in every tree —
Let us away, out of the murky day
Of sullen towns, into the silver noise
Of woods where every bud has found her way
Sunward, and every leaf has found a voice.
© 2010 Mary and Bruce Crawford
This poem by Mary Webb touched me as I read the last line. We are the leaves, budding, unfolding, opening to the sun. Our voices are heard in the munificence of air, space, water. The tree that we stem from has very deep roots and an unfailing supply of water, rich soil.When I have been outside, especially after a rain, I breathe more freely, feel the quiet but for the birds, and see the leaves, holding some water, forming a spout that funnels water below. The leaf is a vessel that receives and gives freely, turning its face sun-ward. Taking a step back, this gives the tree the appearance of raising its arms toward heaven, praising God in the wind, bending in its breath, returning to lift its arms once more. Today, as you observe the trees, praise God that your roots are well watered, the well is well supplied and it is all firmly planted in God’s love.
Because of Him,