|Used with permission, Richard Havenga|
When the Sunday arrived, several years ago, for us to approach our little church about support for our mission to Guatemala, I already had made my mental list about who would contribute and how much they would give. Mostly I was thinking about the ones who had decent jobs and were financially solvent. The ones who looked like they could afford us.
My eye had not even lingered on the one who stood before me after the service. She had an alcoholic, unbelieving husband and five children.
“I want to pledge this each month,” she said.
I looked at the twenty-five dollars in her hand, unwilling to take it.Shamed for looking at things through the eyes of the flesh. Humbled by this gift of faith.
How many times do I wail and flail, moan and groan over the way a situation looks to my natural self and forget that I am a daughter of God, of the One who calls into being things that are not. In whose hand are treasures, though unseen at the moment, ever real and present.
I love these photos taken by naturalist, blogger, photographer, Richard Havenga because they remind me that when the leaves and fallen and all is bare and dry, even then, when green had turned to dust and crumble—look—see the treasures that were always there. Stop by Walk With Father Nature and browse his lovely collections.
Richard says "It may appear to most people to be a bleak and barren time of year, but I like it; trees baring their branches, exposing squirrels' nests, birds' nests, Bald-faced Hornets' nests, and exquisite tree skeletons."
God’s comfort to us to not lose heart, “as we look not to the things that are seen but to the things that unseen. For the things that are seen are transient, but the things that are unseen are eternal.”—2 Cor. 4:18