Today the weather where I was shifted and transformed with each step I took. The winds would blow. Clouds would slide across the sky. Then the clouds would be moved and the sun would appear. The air would warm. Then the winds would come again and the clouds would reappear and the sun would disappear and the temperature would drop. The field would go from being lit by the sun to being an ominous opening under a leaden sky.
I love the spring here. The hardwoods are turning green again. Tiny buds appear everywhere. I see the jakes, hens, and long beards more often, too. The thunderstorms are ramping up, right on time. You can sense the coming humidity of the summers. But spring is nigh and I love it.
I’m positioned here, looking around and up and also at the miles ahead as I jog, and theological bearings are inescapable. Who authored all of this? The secularist has a nonsensical answer to that. Bearings only make sense with reference to the permanent.
Thus, even the simplest of activities–like a jog under a spring sky–bears witness to creation and its Creator.