I just wrote and deleted a long post on the beauty of dying. Not our physical death but spiritually speaking. Every now and then on our trip to NC last week we'd pass trees tucked in amongst the pines and other wintry foliage that stood out because of the color of their leaves. Those beautiful and startling yellows and browns, reds and oranges just captured my eye. That take your breathe away beauty is their death song.
Have you ever noticed how many shades of green there are in nature? Driving along somewhere bordered by forest and woods and I can appreciate and be awestruck by the many shades of His making. The vivid glory making way for a time of quiet and rest that leads to an explosion of growth and newness, followed by a time of strength and storing up. Each cycle necessary for the next but the glory rendered brightest in it's death.
The colors of grace shine more radiantly when we are dying to self...A phrase that means so much more than just being okay with not getting our own way. I think I'm going to stay here a while...considering the beauty of death...hungering for it. I'm slowly reading through Psalm 119...praying it really. Asking for that desire, that love for His Word...His commands...His teachings...His statues...because there...dwelling in the essence of Him is where I know I will find death.