Dear little leaves:
It’s March. Fall started 7 months ago.
Your neighboring tree is beginning to bud
with tiny hints of impending spring.
Through mighty rainstorms,
through all manner of wind,
small and great,
some breaking strong branches
that now lie directly beneath you —
you have weathered it all.
Now you sway in the breeze,
shaken, but
still, you hold on.
We are these leaves.
Little children.
Small.
Frail.
Delicate.
The wind shakes us,
the rain makes us heavy, but
still, we hold on.
Tightly we cling
to our Father,
our True Vine.
He cannot be shaken.
No wind is too strong,
No storm too mighty
for the One who made them,
for the One who stills them.
For this reason,
still, we hold on.
And to You, O Lord,
we will cling forever.
My soul clings to you; your right hand upholds me. — Psalm 63:8
Photo credit: James Coleman via Unsplash