The sounds this morning are not bound. The soft pour of water and the chirping birds are completely unpredictable. An unseen hand guides the new morning and my knees go weak.
It’s beautiful when the trees are our backdrop.
We wouldn’t want a mechanical nature.
It would be dry and fake and dead. Yet, my being strives for a mechanical life. Eight days from now both hands will be extended in front of my peers. One hand will shake and the other will receive a diploma.
I’m anxious and itching. I’m nervous and worried.
How do two spirits live inside of me? One adores the mysterious sunlight, the unpredictable song, and invisible wind. The other is always asking:
Could it be that the same One who orchestrates the morning song, directs my life? Could it be that the Creator of the intricate and amazing, guides my steps?
What if the same wonder we have towards creation could be directed towards our lives? We wonder at the song of birds; why not wonder at the path that lies before us?
Perhaps we have more trust in the Conductor of creation than the Conductor of our lives. Perhaps we wholeheartedly expect the birds to sing on a spring morning but doubt that our lives could sing with such majesty. However, the same voice that gives the birds a song, moves about our lives.
Perhaps excitement and joy could replace our anxiety and fear.
Perhaps wonder could invade and take over our hearts.
Our lives were meant to sing glorious songs. Let us not be frustrated when we cannot tap our foot to the rhythm or write out the exact notes. For the Conductor’s symphony is far more glorious than sheet music can contain.