It seems fitting somehow that a large weeping willow tree graces the yard of the small rental house God provided for us after our foreclosure. When I'm grieving the loss of our home I wish for a harp to hang in it's branches, like the captive Israelites in Babylon. Self pity can make it hard to sing the Lord's songs. Unfortunately, not having a talent for song or music, the best I could do is throw my iPod up in the tree, and I find I'm not that sad after all.
This trouble is for my world but not for my eternity. Jesus understands sadness, but bur assures me that my mourning will yet turn into joy. My real home now and forevermore is with my God. I'll do my best to occupy until the King returns.
Psalm 30:5 (NIV) For his anger lasts only a moment, but his favor lasts a lifetime; weeping may remain for a night, but rejoicing comes in the morning.
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