After his baptism, as Jesus came up out of the water, the heavens were opened and he saw the Spirit of God descending like a dove and settling on him. And a voice from heaven said, “This is my dearly loved Son, who brings me great joy.” [Matthew 3:16-17 (NLT)]
A little boy was busy with his crayons and a large sheet of paper. When his mother asked what he was drawing, he proudly answered, “I’m drawing a picture of God.” The mother tried to explain: “But sweetie, no one has seen God so we don’t know how he looks.” Smiling proudly, the boy continued coloring and reassured his mom. “Well, they will when I get done!”
That story reminded me of last Sunday’s sermon. In honor of Trinity Sunday, our pastor asked us how we picture God the Father, God the Son, and God the Holy Spirit. Had there been any children present, I wouldn’t have been surprised if one had described him as an old gentleman with a flowing beard, wearing a white robe, and sitting on a golden throne. Actually, I was a little surprised that no one said they picture God as Morgan Freeman, George Burns, or even Octavia Spencer. Instead, people shared how they saw or felt God’s presence in things like babies, sunrises, rainbows, and sunsets.
When asked about Jesus, no one described the man who walked the dusty roads of Judea, wept at the tomb of Lazarus, or reassured the doubting Thomas. Instead, they spoke of seeing Jesus in actions like love, sharing, forgiveness, service, and sacrifice. As for the Holy Spirit, people described hearing His still small voice in things like insight, inner conviction or experiencing a compelling force.
Our assignment for the week was to become more aware of our triune God’s presence in our lives. Early Tuesday morning, my husband called to me while I was reading Scripture in my windowless office. When I looked out the east facing window I understood his urgent call: the sunrise was absolutely majestic. As our Creator God announced Himself, remembering Sunday’s sermon, I responded to God’s proclamation by finishing my prayers on the deck while watching the sun rise. The show in the sky was accompanied by a heavenly chorus of robins, wrens, sparrows and cardinals. Our Triune God made His presence known and felt.
I had a pastor who used to start her morning prayer with, “Good morning, Lord. It’s so nice to see your face.” I hadn’t thought about the fact that she was looking out at the congregation when she said those words. Indeed, she was seeing God the Father, God the Son, and God the Holy Spirit in the sea of faces before her. We are, after all, made in His image, saved by His blood, and filled with His Spirit.
As for that little boy’s picture: I don’t know if he drew a grandfather, a sunset, a long-haired man in robe and sandals, a hospice volunteer, a breeze, or a dove descending from the sky. Perhaps he drew Jesus’ baptism when all three of the Godhead were present. The youngster is probably too young to understand the Trinity but I hope, in his own unique way, he found a way to incorporate three beautiful images into one. Praise Father, Son and Holy Spirit!
May the grace of the Lord Jesus Christ, the love of God, and the fellowship of the Holy Spirit be with you all. [2 Corinthians 13:14 (NLT)]
May the grace of the Lord Jesus Christ, the love of God, and the fellowship of the Holy Spirit be with you all. [Matthew 28:19 (NLT)]
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Earlier this year, upon seeing the browning and nearly naked cypress trees at the bird sanctuary, the visitor asked if Hurricane Irma had killed them. I explained that the bald and pond cypress weren’t dead, just dormant. Being deciduous, they shed their leaves annually and were just enjoying a much needed rest during the shorter days and dryer conditions of winter. I reassured her that, in a month or so, their bright green needles would return and new growth would sprout from their branches. Today, the forest is verdant throughout the swamp.
When Hurricane Irma uprooted trees here last September, the underground irrigation pipes throughout our 1,800 home community were wrenched out of the soil and the lines ruptured. Trees and stumps had to be removed before the process of finding and fixing the leaks could begin and we went more than seven months without irrigation. What with winter and spring’s hotter than average temperatures, receiving about half of our average rainfall since November, and no working irrigation system in our community, the once lush green grass became dry and brown, the flowers wilted, and the parched soil got hard. The only things that seemed to thrive were the weeds! Fortunately, the repairs were completed last week, the summer rain eventually will arrive, and our grass, shrubbery and trees will recover.
Hurricane Irma did quite a number on our southwest Florida bird sanctuary. Unfortunately, much of the boardwalk was damaged (some of it beyond repair) and there were several casualties among the trees, including two 100-foot cypress trees that proudly stood for over 400 years. Like them, many smaller trees were uprooted and now lie dead on the forest floor. Irma’s high winds did some violent and cruel pruning as it stripped bark, tore off branches, and splintered mature trees as if they were mere matchsticks. Cypress trees that were over 40-feet tall are now little more than stumps. Nevertheless, trees I thought were goners are recovering and greening up; new foliage is emerging out of their fractured tops and sides. In spite of the incredible damage they suffered, their roots still support and feed them with life giving water and they’re surviving. They may be down but they’re certainly not out.
“It wasn’t worth it!” I grumbled while applying cortisone over four painful red bumps on my foot. When walking around the lake at the botanic gardens, I’d spotted an osprey in a nearby tree. To get a good shot, I had to step off the paved trail into what I knew to be fire ant territory. Having had previous encounters with these stinging insects, I knew better than to stand there in sandals, but I did it anyway; the picture wasn’t worth the price I was paying for my poor decision.