Hope Springs Eternal



Nature's first green is gold,
Her hardest hue to hold.
Her early leaf's a flower;
But only so an hour.
Then leaf subsides to leaf.
So Eden sank to grief,
So dawn goes down to day.
Nothing gold can stay.
Robert Frost

This tree is in our yard. Just beyond the fence and in clear view from the back door. It attracts my gaze many times a day as I let the pets in and out or fetch wood for the fire. My eyes are drawn to it and my mind lingers with admiration on the tenacious tree. Through Fall and Winter, hurricane and blizzard, Nor'easter and freezing rain, this tree stays golden. The storms have come and beat upon it. The snow piled up around it. And there it stands, steadfastly arrayed in its leaves of gold. 

I have been quietly rooting for the golden tree all winter. Feeling a sense of relief after each storm passes and the leaves are still there.
 Robert Frost notwithstanding, 
I like to see that something gold can stay.

It speaks to my optimistic nature and my trust that our tests and trials serve the purpose of refining us and teaching us the lessons we need to learn in our process of becoming.
 It has been a dark, cold, stormy winter.
 But we know spring will come.

He sat by the fire of seven-fold heat,
As He watched by the precious ore.
And closer He bent with a searching gaze
As He heated it more and more.
He knew He had ore that could stand the test
And He wanted the finest gold,
To mold as a crown for the King to wear,
Set with gems of price untold.
So He laid our gold in the burning fire,
Though we fain would have said Him, "Nay."
And He watched the dross that we had not seen,
As it melted and passed away.
And the gold grew brighter, and yet more bright
And our eyes were so dim with tears,
As we saw the fire, not the Master's hand,
And questioned with anxious fear.
Yet our gold shone out with a richer glow,
As it mirrored a Form above
That bent o'er the fire, though unseen by us
With a look of infinite love.
Can we think that it pleases His loving heart
To cause a moment of pain?
Ah, no, but He saw through the present cross
The bliss of eternal gain.
So He waited there with a watchful eye,
With a love that is strong and sure,
And His gold did not suffer a bit more heat
Than was needed to make it pure!
Author Unknown



Taking endurance to the extreme...


Comments

Melanie said…
I love the poems and the pictures. Thank you Joanna! Please feel free to email me with any questions about TJYC.

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