Look at the Acorn

She looked out her window- the rain’s pouring down. Only five minutes ago the sun was shining and the birds were singing joyfully. No songs could be heard now, only the pitter-patter of the rain on the window and the occasional deafening thunderclap. The oak tree outside her window blew back and forth in the raging wind, receiving no mercy from the storm, or so it seemed. A stray acorn hit the glass pane, startling her, and then fell to the ground. It rolled along the rocks, through the mud, until it finally settled in a puddle of water, battered and scarred by the relentless wind. She watched as it bobbed up and down, seeming to never find rest. A flash of lightning shook the window-pane, illuminating the broad oak tree’s silhouette against the sky. Its strength was allowing it to weather the storm and remain firmly planted. To think, it was once a helpless acorn. The sky began to clear, and she looked down once again at the acorn, now resting in a patch of grass and protected from the running water. It was safe. Through all of its struggles and failed attempts of success, it never once doubted it would make it through. And though its growth will take time and will be hindered by various circumstances, that acorn will most assuredly become an oak tree, perfect in strength and form, and capable of withstanding all types of storms.

Often we ask God what His reasons and motives are in our lives. Why am I going through this? Why do I feel this way? Or, why does this hurt so much? His answer to our questions is always, “Trust in me. Look at the acorn, and trust in me.”


My Heart's Song

There are bars around my heart
Hindering me from taking part
In the life He’s given me,
In the joy that used to set me free.

It is cold in this cell.
The water in my well
Has all dried up,
And I have misplaced my overflowing cup.

The silence is deafening
But my fears are roaring
In my ears and tormenting my mind,
So I watch helplessly as the years pass by

And I do nothing –
Too scared to try anything,
So I huddle behind a locked door,
Afraid to venture out or ask for more.

A gentle wind awakes my soul;
A light floods my dirty, little hole.
I have a visitor in my confining room;
A friend has joined me in my tomb.

But instead of wallowing in the filth,
He tenderly observes my state; His eyes hold a wealth
Of love, compelling me to rise from the dirt.
He draws me close and soothes my hurt.

He breaks the bars
And heals all of my scars.
He lights a fire to warm my soul
And in His presence, passion replaces the cold.

My excited heart beats so fast!
He gave me a peace that He promised will last.
He has righted all of my wrong.
He is my life, my first love, my heart’s only song.