We love to visit the nursery. We are so blessed to live adjacent to this place of hopeful plants, waiting to be taken home and nurtured. I love to see the neatly lined rows of annuals, perennials, shrubs, and trees sitting in anticipation, seemingly straightening and saturating themselves in brighter colour as passers-by scope them, just waiting to be noticed. It reminds me of the Giving Tree, one of our favourite books. The tree waited and waited to be remembered by the boy she loved. And when he remembered her, he would come and swing from her branches and realize how much she had to give him. How could he have forgotten her? Then he would take the gifts she had to offer and go away for a long time again, forgetting her sacrifice for him.
God waits for us. He whispers during the day that He loves us. He tells us through our children's laughter, through the sunlight on our faces, through the majesty of a storm. And then He waits. Do we enter into His presence and take all we can from His mercy and then quickly forget His sacrifice? I don't want Him to have to wait for me. I want prayer to be like breathing. To be ever in His presence because He's as close as the mention of His name. I want to always be in awe of my Mighty Creator. And as songwriter, Nichole Nordeman writes, "Let me not forget to tremble..."