Why
is it that just when the irises are at their peak the wind picks up and the
rain falls, knocking them to the ground, bending their stems to the point of no
return? Perhaps it is because then they
need to be cut and brought into the house where they will be enjoyed more
often.
Dear Giver of all things, you are
in the bright blooming trees and flowers and in the winds and rain that remove
the color, petals and stems. You give
your human family the gift of spectrum, of cycle, of perspective. Help us to notice the ebbs and flows, the
floods and the droughts, the noise and the silence so that we may be able to
discern the benefits within it all. Let
us grow and guide us through the way we understand and accept the
spectrum. Amen.