"Oh, what a beautiful mornin'. Oh, what a beautiful day. I've got a beautiful feeling; everything's going my way!"
When I wake up to radiant sunshine on a cloudless day like this one, I find it difficult to keep from breaking into song - especially that one. Rodgers and Hammerstein hit it out of the park with their hit musical Oklahoma, and I love every minute of that film. I am drawn into the sentiments of the characters with all their highs and lows. With glorious music aiding the movement of the story, I find myself captivated by the tension between farmers and ranchers, suitors and darlings, love and fear. Even the dance sequences seem to rage with conflict between styles from square dance to ballet.
Struggles, of course, are not limited to the big screen. Lately, I feel a bit unbalanced and conflicted myself, having more questions than answers. How am I expected to approach another day of solitude when all I want is to go visit someone? My hands were meant to greet others, not type on a computer for days at a time. Am I supposed to accept that a Zoom meeting is a proper substitute for a hug? What am I going to say in a sermon this week? I am still immersing myself in books and study, but my teaching style is driven by the input of others. When the majority of input I receive these days is from the media... well, let's just say my personal ballet is feeling a bit like a barn dance. I feel scattered, overtaken by clouds and darkness.
However, just when I begin to feel overwhelmed by the pressure and the emotional conflicts, I wake up to a beautiful morning like this one. With God's voice booming promises of love and support, I'm back to breaking into song.
"The Lord God proclaims: I myself will search for my flock and seek them out. As a shepherd seeks out the flock when some in the flock have been scattered, so will I seek out my flock. I will rescue them from all the places where they were scattered during the time of clouds and thick darkness." (Ezekiel 34:11-12, CEB) The prophet beautifully assures me of God's active pursuit of my peace and comfort. "I myself will search, will seek, will rescue."
When I wake up to radiant sunshine on a cloudless day like this one, I find it difficult to keep from breaking into song - especially that one. Rodgers and Hammerstein hit it out of the park with their hit musical Oklahoma, and I love every minute of that film. I am drawn into the sentiments of the characters with all their highs and lows. With glorious music aiding the movement of the story, I find myself captivated by the tension between farmers and ranchers, suitors and darlings, love and fear. Even the dance sequences seem to rage with conflict between styles from square dance to ballet.
Struggles, of course, are not limited to the big screen. Lately, I feel a bit unbalanced and conflicted myself, having more questions than answers. How am I expected to approach another day of solitude when all I want is to go visit someone? My hands were meant to greet others, not type on a computer for days at a time. Am I supposed to accept that a Zoom meeting is a proper substitute for a hug? What am I going to say in a sermon this week? I am still immersing myself in books and study, but my teaching style is driven by the input of others. When the majority of input I receive these days is from the media... well, let's just say my personal ballet is feeling a bit like a barn dance. I feel scattered, overtaken by clouds and darkness.
However, just when I begin to feel overwhelmed by the pressure and the emotional conflicts, I wake up to a beautiful morning like this one. With God's voice booming promises of love and support, I'm back to breaking into song.
"The Lord God proclaims: I myself will search for my flock and seek them out. As a shepherd seeks out the flock when some in the flock have been scattered, so will I seek out my flock. I will rescue them from all the places where they were scattered during the time of clouds and thick darkness." (Ezekiel 34:11-12, CEB) The prophet beautifully assures me of God's active pursuit of my peace and comfort. "I myself will search, will seek, will rescue."