I didn't see it coming

There is a route I run in frigid weather when the running path bears treacherous ruts of ice and snow.  My alternate route follows sidewalks and roads through a residential area, the yards quiet and grey in the depths of winter, and the trees stencil stark black lines across the heavens.

At about the half-mile point on that loop -- both coming and going -- the sidewalk deviates from the norm, jutting out in a half circle, and taking a short detour around a peculiar little patch of dirt.  I realize that at one point there was a reason for this odd little exception, the rest of the sidewalk running long and straight as the eye can see.  I imagine when the sidewalk was measured and poured, a large tree stood there in its path, and the pavement took a turn to accommodate it.  But now, and probably for a long time, there has appeared no reason for this aberration from the expected course.

Sometimes I ran around the patch of dirt, staying on the pavement.  Sometimes I just ran over that barren place, that which is no more, and of which its purpose has expired.

I hadn't run that way in months, but I followed it the other day when I only had time for a quick little run. I was just settling into a stride when I saw something brilliant right before me.  Blocking my path was an outrageous display of bright yellow lilies, standing tall, crowded together like a choir rejoicing with strong voices and incredible joy.

I didn't see it coming.

That phrase is typically reserved for something devastating, such as a train wreck.  But when we are walking with God, He places right in our path unexpected blessings.  He transforms what seemingly has no purpose into that which delights and sustains.

He is good.
His mercy abides forever.

Even in that we cannot see coming.  Ambushed by His love.

Therefore I tell you,
do not be anxious about your life...
Consider the lilies,
how they grow;
they neither toil nor spin,
yet I tell you,
even Solomon is all his glory
was not arrayed like one of these.

                          Luke 12. 22, 27