How lovely is Your tabernacle,
O LORD of hosts!
My soul longs, yes, even faints
For the courts of the LORD;
My heart and my flesh cry out for the living God.
Even the sparrow has found a home,
And the swallow a nest for herself,
Where she may lay her young—
Even Your altars, O LORD of hosts,
My King and my God.
Blessed are those who dwell in Your house;
They will still be praising You.
I took a moment this evening to wander through my own back yard and enjoy the sights, smells and sounds of spring. I was tempted to work, because I have neglected my own yard and gardens while overseeing the Twelve Tribes Garden in Corinth. When I chose to lean the rake back against the wall and enter Shabbat with thanksgiving, I was greeted with the nest you see here. In the climbing rose bush next to my garden gate, a pair of mockingbirds have constructed their nest. Now I know who has been singing so exuberantly outside my window every morning for the past week! Praise breaks forth from creation, and we are privileged to join in the song!
Shabbat shalom, y’all!