I read other Scriptures. I'm pushing my way through Isaiah. I'm delighting in the eccentricness of the Gospel of John. But the Psalms are where I always seem to go when I need some encouragement, which is most of the time.
Today I read "light is sown for the righteous; and gladness for the upright in heart."
An interesting image: light being buried in the ground as a seed that will one day sprout, and then grow into something abundantly more than the seed that was planted.
Here on this earth, if we are perceptive and are open to perceiving, we get little bits of light. My seventh grand child was born a few days ago. She is so fragile and so absolutely dependent. Her brain is taking so much in, but, I believe, without any cognitivity on her part. Yet at this stage, she radiates life and thus draws people, like a magnet. But then what do you do, now that you are next to her? Must you make faces and funny sounds? As a new born, she will not respond to such things.
Just appreciate life, that most mysterious and unknown quality of which our planet is teeming. Uniquely teeming, or so it seems.
I was just reading about how Jesus wept at the grave of Lazarus. (What a sight to see Jesus weep!) Why was He sad in such a way that tears came?
Maybe death is the saddest thing, just as life is the happiest.
In our world, life means death. Anything that lives, dies. But that shouldn't be. Life should be so much better than that.
Light buried in darkness, what will it grow into?
Life buried in death.
Sprouts forth imperishable.
That's how it should be; though what that could be like is beyond what I can imagine.
Regardless, I'm encouraged.