Today I notice the Weeping Cherry, and the beautiful intricacy of the ice on her limbs captures my attention.
|Ice on the Weeping Cherry|
A swirling scaffolding of crystal sparkles in the late afternoon sun. It’s so beautiful that I almost forget how terrible this weight is for my Weeping Cherry’s fragile branches. She’s not meant for it.
When I think about what I’m meant for, and when I start to desire that shimmer of fame or importance to capture attention, I remember this: God made the Weeping Cherry for its own unique kind of blossom and rich green foliage. Let everything else melt off and free her to be what she was meant to be. She’ll bloom in time.
Why do you think this generation desires fame so very much?