Drops

Yesterday I woke at the end of a drizzle. I looked out my window and saw the pretty raindrops on the rhododendron. And here are the places my head went:

first, my head was quoting a poem from a poster I had in junior high. I have never been able to track it down so maybe it was just poster fodder but it said Dylan:

In the early pearly morning when the sun begins to rise
and the flowers lift their faces
In a world that's less than kind
Tell me, tell me, tell me
There are still some quiet places


which leads to what is quite possibly my favorite verse:

"in returning and rest you shall be saved;
in quietness and in trust shall be your strength."
But you were unwilling. ~ Isaiah 30:15
(I quote this to myself and always add, "may I be willing.")


then come the verses a couple chapters later: 


And the effect of righteousness will be peace, 
and the result of righteousness, quietness and trust forever.
My people will abide in a peaceful habitation
in secure dwellings, and in quiet resting places. ~ Isaiah 32:17-18


and the whole cycle concluded with me reciting a song from camp growing up - I don't remember the tune but just the words - before breakfast: 

I saw raindrops on my window, Joy is like the rain.
Laughter runs across my pain, slips away and comes again. Joy is like the rain. 

I saw clouds upon a mountain, Joy is like a cloud. 
Sometimes silver, sometimes gray, always sun not far away. Joy is like a cloud. 

I saw Christ in wind and thunder, Joy is tried by storm. 
Christ asleep within my boat, whipped by wind, yet still afloat. Joy is tried by storm. 

I saw raindrops on the river, Joy is like the rain. 
Bit by bit the river grows, till all at once it overflows. Joy is like the rain. 
~ Miriam Therese Winter

Ramblings about Red

Color is always interesting to me. And now it is time to think about red.

Back at Christmas time I found gel pens on clearance for a dime and bought them out for stocking stuffers. There was only one red one, and I kept it for myself. I had it stuffed in a back pocket where apparently it clicked open without my knowledge and ALL the ink in it soaked through my pocket and on to the upholstery in our relatively new and here-to-fore unstained car. It was not a fine moment. 

DH did all he could to get it out, but, it was still very much there, so every time I saw it I felt back in the doghouse. 

But now, the sun has faded the red right away... see? Hardly there, just a little pinkish. Maybe by the end of summer no mark of this mishap will remain.

Now that surprises me. It seems like red is the most stainerific color and there it is, nearly gone. So natch I start thinking about Isaiah:

though your sins are like scarlet,
    they shall be as white as snow;
though they are red like crimson,
    they shall become like wool.

How can this be? We know it's through the blood... red again. A very staining red. How on earth does covering something with blood lead to it being white? I don't know. Red blood is full of oxygen, giving life. 

I also think about the character Red from Shawshank Redemption and the hope he found. There is even greater hope to be found in Christ. Thank God that sin can be atoned for by Jesus's red blood.