It was raining the day before and I had been meditating on Habakkuk 3. My own context is the situation in my country: a Government that overthrew the legitimately elected leaders by MPs switching sides, ostensibly to protect the interests of the majority race; a pandemic that is showing up the shortcomings of the leadership, yet at the same time seriously damaging the economy and inflicting a lot of pain and suffering. I woke up early and came into my garden and saw this little white flower just opening up its petals, then this little purple flower that seemed to have scraped through. The lily had been around for some time and I have been waiting for it to fully bloom.
the waters raged and thundered
the deluge unrelenting
wave after wave, troubles pour
pride lies shattered, tears abound
amidst the dirt and mud
battered yet faithful
a single song of praise
rising above and standing tall
hope proclaims its clarion call
he will come to deliver his people
to save the innocent, the weak and small
in innocence a flower blooms
such frail beauty and spotless purity
what will be its fate?
In wrath remember mercy, O God.