What gives

I hear the sound of the sandles Shuffling on the streets of Nazereth  Dispersing dust like you and l. The feet’s of ‘ the waymaker, walking ... The sweet sound of Yeshus  floating down the cobbled    pathway  as his mother calls him. The whirring of His tools,perhaps a broken finger as the master craftsman ,the wounded healer submits to His earthly father , Is it any wonder that God chose to be born in a carpenters home? Can you imagine a house built so shoddily it cannot shelter? A crooked table,a stand  that does not hold. The hours of intense labour ,love and investment  a master craftsman puts in to finish the craft? Much like our Heavenly Father.Is it any wonder  that Jesus chose those ordinary men over  philosophers and thinkers. Can you visualise a fisherman  sleep through the dawn while the world hauls the boat and set it sail ?Would he catch the fish? Can you imagine him spouting...

I look out of my window at the leaves gently bobbing away ,swaying timeless it seems ,yet I know It takes but a gust of wind to blow it away. The branches will still stare back, long after the leaves have fallen to the ground. Winter will come,and then another spring New leaves will come with it the fruits and leaves but the trunk ,the trunk will quietly add rings to its width. It will build a home for someone else perhaps in another generation. You mattered.