I set out on my walk through the cool Minnesota morning with good intentions. No podcast or music this morning – just communion with my Creator.
I had good plans to pray for the people in my mind and heart as I strode past dew-laden ferns, past the mailbox, onward through the morning’s coolness. As I started to pray for the ones I love a line from an old hymn kept interrupting my thoughts: “I need no other argument, I need no other plea: It is enough that Jesus died, and that He died for me.”
I look around and breathe it in: Yes, Lord, it is enough. When I worry about bills and health and the ugly direction this crazy world is headed – it is enough.
I exchange my good plans for this better truth. Birds are singing and a woodpecker is announcing his presence. A chipmunk chirps a warning as I pass, and a doe with two fawns cross the road ahead of me. There is abounding beauty in a Northwoods morning as nature bursts with life in the few months between winters. It seizes the day.
The prophet Habakkuk said that even in the absence of security and provision, he would still be joyful in God his Savior. Paul said in 1 Thessalonians that Jesus died for us so that, whether we are dead or alive, we may live together with Him.
The northern woods take advantage of their brief opportunity to grow, bloom and provide sustenance for the creatures around them. All of us winter-weary folk rejoice to see the explosion of life around us. Like the summer woods, my days on earth are also a brief interlude in the infinity of time. May I, too, use each day to grow and flourish, to spread my branches over the weak and provide nourishment for the fainthearted.
When all is said and done, in great want or plenty, it is enough. More than enough, that Jesus died. And that He died for me.