Category: Uncategorized

Rattled by the Weeds

Once a patch of wild earth, my yard is now a sanctuary to butterflies and birds. An emerald oasis bordered by a palette of perennial colors. Yellow Columbine, purple Iris, pink Azaleas, and pale blue Forget-me-not appear like magic.

Just one problem.

In wanting the perfect garden, my eyes are drawn like magnets towards the weeds. And I wonder. Is that my outlook on life?

Is everything that is right with the world upstaged by evil? Do I fixate on the negative when I look at my family, or myself? Does a root of bitterness within my heart overshadow the good in others?

Again I’m confronted. Where’s my focus? Why the weeds, instead of the Master Gardener?

Beneath a canopy of oak trees, I kneel in the  flowerbed. Listen and wait for the Master Gardener to cultivate my heart.

 Prune plants, pull up weeds, scatter seeds. Fertilize and water. Remember…..

Last year, my Crimson Pygmy Barberry Bush appeared dead. But once I transplanted it to a sunnier location, it thrived. My Crepe Myrtle tree has grown very little over the years. But it still produces cherry crinkled blossoms in the summer.

I’ve marveled at the hardy Forget-me-not that survived in the cement cracks. And watched dismayed as my diseased ivy wasted away one winter only to grow back more prolific in the spring.

Sounds like me.

Transferred by Jesus from darkness to light. Sin that tries to entangle my heart like a weed is purged, so I can enjoy abundant life. My soul fed with the Living Water. Spiritual growth spurts, and seasons of blight.                                   

Clinging to  the Vine, I become more like Him, revealing the fruits of the Spirit.

Knowing in the fullness of time, in the right season,

Jesus will come for the harvest.

“Put in your sickle and reap, because the hour to reap has come, because the harvest of the earth is ripe.” (Rev. 14:15)

Creme in Your Coffee?

Last week, someone whose name  I won’t mention, surprised me by cooking dinner. I came home to the delicious smell and rich taste of steaming Potatoes Gratin. I paid my compliments to the chef by licking my plate, not knowing I’d want to hit him with a rolling pin the next day.

I’m not a violent person, but I’m not a morning person either. I need my coffee first thing, and I drink decaf. Go figure.

Saturday morning I made my usual French Pressed coffee: grind two scoops of whole coffee beans, pour two cups of boiling water over them, and steep for three minutes. Then I pour the coffee into my Drama Mama mug and add three tablespoons of Half and Half.

I repeat: add three tablespoons of Half and Half.

Like Sherlock Holmes in search of a dairy product, I looked behind every container in my refrigerator. I plowed my way through soggy, limp lettuce leaves in the vegetable bin.

My personality went from being like Smeagol to Gollum in Lord of the Rings. Instead of a ring, I wanted my precious Half and Half.

Desperate, I added 2% milk into my cup, took two sips of bland, lukewarm coffee, and dumped it down the sink. When the chef whose name I won’t mention woke up, I asked, “Did you use Half and Half in the Potatoes?”

“Yes. Did you need it for your coffee?”

“YES!” I hissed like Gollum.

“Sorry about that.”

I counted to ten and a half and half, and went away to have my quiet time with the Lord. Coffee or no coffee, it’s difficult to read God’s Living Word and not be convicted. “But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control…” (Gal. 5:22,23)

My fruit was lacking. But even in this, the Lord used my Half and Half to show how quickly I fall off my holy high horse when I don’t get what I want when I want it. Rather than cry over spilled milk, I confessed and…

Went to the store where I bought a gallon of Half and Half to share with the chef whose name I won’t mention. Only now, he’s afraid to touch my Half and Half. And I think it’s beginning to curdle.

Tug of War

Ordinarily I read my Bible and pray first thing each morning. But this was no ordinary day. A writing project had to be postmarked by 4 p.m. Mindful of the fleeting time, the taskmaster within me shouted, “Get to work!”

My shoulders sagged beneath responsibility’s weight. Surely God would understand if I worked first and had my quiet time at the end of the day.

Agenda-oriented, I turned on my laptop computer, but Martin Luther’s words pricked my heart. “I have so much to do that I shall spend the first three hours in prayer.”

Taskmaster and Obedient servant played tug of war in my head.

I turned on Christian praise music and knelt before my living room window. My yard was a spring palette of emerald green, yellow, lavender, and blue. Nothing in my creative bank could compare to God’s handiwork.

Joy filled my heart as I praised God for my blessings. Praised God for who He is. Opening the dog-eared pages of my Bible, Psalm 66:8 seemed to dance before my eyes. “Praise our God, O peoples, let the sound of his praise be heard.” (NIV)

Smiling, I sang along with Chris Tomlin’s lyrics, “How can I keep from singing your praise. How can I ever say enough. How amazing is your love. How can I keep from shouting your name. I know I am loved by the King and it makes my heart want to sing.”

Hands raised, my heart grew as warm as the sunshine on my windowpane.

I didn’t spend three hours in prayer, but my time was well spent. When I went to my desk, calm nerves allowed my mind to stay on task.Technological glitches and  minor setbacks tried to sabotage me, but my 10×13 envelope was postmarked fifteen minutes before the deadline. That’s too close for comfort, Lord.

God didn’t allow me to second guess my priorities. A card waited in my mailbox. The front of it said, “Trust in the Lord with all your heart…in all your ways acknowledge Him, and He will make your paths straight.” (Proverbs 3:5,6)

I wept.

The card was signed by the women in my Bible study group, God love em.

But it was God’s perfect timing …. even in this.

Weathering the Storms

      Jesus said, “I have told you these things, so that in me you may have peace. In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world.”– John 16:33 NIV

A severe rainstorm approached our town like a threatening and uninvited houseguest. The media warned us to prepare, so my husband cleaned our rain gutters and stored our lawn furniture. I gathered flashlights and bottled water. At dawn, we awoke to wind gusting through the trees as a downpour hammered the ground. But because we had prepared, we were able to face the storm with less anxiety.

Life is full of times of preparation. We prepare for school exams and job promotions. We prepare for a baby to be born, for retirement, and yes, even for harsh weather. Should we not then prepare our minds and spirits for life’s inevitable personal storms?When we faithfully read the Bible and pray, we prepare spiritually for the storms of life.

This may sound simple, but such disciplines help us to know God’s character more deeply so that when trials occur, we won’t feel overwhelmed and question God’s goodness. Instead, because of our intimacy with God, we will know that God is ever-present in any storm. And we can know God’s peace through it all. –Karen Foster

via The Upper Room – Daily Devotional Guide.

“Why do you worry?”

Everyone in the house is sleeping. But me. Audio tapes of previous conversations and questions about tomorrow play in my head. The cooing of a White-winged Dove outside my bedroom window draws me out of bed.

I venture outside to sit alone on my folk’s back patio; alone with my thoughts. But the whistle of a train passing through this small town interrupts my silence.

In a brown oak rocking chair, I watch the day unfold like a stage play. White-winged doves fly from one mesquite tree to another; resting on the branches, eating cracked corn from pet bowls sitting on the picnic table. Overhead, a  T-38 jet from the neighboring Air Force base zooms by, drowning out the chorus of Grackles and Finches.

A cornfield separates me from the rural highway where people in cars speed by. They rush to jobs, run errands, hurry to medical appointments. But time doesn’t rule me today. I can read scripture and pray before the household wakes up.

Tradition brings me to the Lone Star state each year. Four generations gathered round the dining room table on Easter weekend. Thankful for God’s provision, and His Son who died on the cross and rose again. Thankful for family despite the drama.

Now it’s a weekday morning. The others have gone, and my family is staying a few more days. But who’s counting? Unless it’s true that ‘company and fish stink after three days.’ In which case, it explains why my folks have been sniffling.

I randomly open my Bible to Matthew 6:26, 27. “Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your Heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they? Who of you by worrying can add a single day to your life?”

A yellow Aspen leaf is pressed between the pages. I’ve been here before; the words in verse 28 are underlined: “why do you worry.”

“Why do you worry?” Take action. Pray for that person’s employment, that person’s health, that person’s relationship with Christ, and with others.

“Why do you worry?” Spoken by Jesus knowing the excruciating death that awaited Him. Knowing all but one of His disciples would be martyred. Knowing believers would be scattered and persecuted.

God, the Alpha and Omega, knows my past regrets, present concerns, my future.  And still He says, “Why do you worry?”

I can rock frantically back and forth, getting no where. Absorb the drama, stand on my soap box, worry about tomorrow.

Or I can sit still in His presence. Rest on His Word and obey, “Do not worry… but seek first the kingdom of God and His righteousness….” (verses 31-33)

The choice is mine…

Even in this.