"Mama, I sent you a restaurant gift card by E-mail for Mother's Day," my daughter Amy said the other day on the phone. "You won't have any trouble getting it printed, like last year, will you?" she asked guardedly.
"Oh, no," I said, "We can get it printed at the library." None of our printers seem to be working, so we finally got around to going to the library yesterday. Using a different computer feels strange to me, especially a public one with its own protocol. It wasn't long till we called on the library attendant for help.
We pulled up our E-mail provider, but since we were not on our home computer, it wanted to know our password. Password! My mind went blank. We never use it at home, because our web mail is on "favorites." I wracked my brain until something came fuzzily to the surface, but it was rejected as "Incorrect password."
I clicked on "Help," and the advice was to change my password. The typed message was "Give me a few minutes, please." After what seemed an interminably long time, a new password was displayed. I gladly entered it, but "Incorrect password" came up again. Over and over we tried it, with more of "This may take a few minutes," messages, not to mention the summoning of the attendant again.
We left in frustration, knowing that now our old password would not work on our home computer, and maybe not the new one, either! If our password was messed up, my granddaughter, whom I was considering asking for assistance, would not be able to help! Miraculously, the new password was accepted, but, still, we didn't have a printer.
"Since we're going to Stillwater tomorrow," I suggested to my husband, "why don't we stop at Adam's and get him to print the certificate for us?" A phone call to our grandson resulted in a "Yes, sure!" from our college man. He gave me directions to his digs, and I won't go into how I couldn't program them into our GPS because of a bad connection, and our phone GPS was leading us in the wrong direction. We went to the general area, and, thanks to a friendly mail carrier, we located his address.
Shortly I had the copy of the Mother's Day certificate safely in my purse. "When are you coming up?" I asked Adam as we were ready to leave. Then a thought occurred to me. "How would you like a dog?" I asked on impulse, knowing he loved Pebbles, their family pet living with us. I explained about my allergies, and he said, "I'll take her," to which I said, "You mean it?"
"I want her," Adam said. Why didn't I think of this sooner? It was an answer to my prayers! I knew he would love her, wrestle with her, and let her sleep on his bed! (Not my thing at all!) Thank you, Lord! We had lunch and finished our shopping in high spirits. Now if only we had a Cracker Barrel to use my Mother's Day present! (We'll save it for a road trip to another grandson's graduation soon!)
Wednesday, May 20, 2015
Saturday, May 16, 2015
Happy Ending
The newspaper circular from the hardware store had featured nice, hard-plastic Adirondack chairs for a good price in their ad. The colors were pretty, too, so yesterday afternoon we went to the store to check them out. The sales clerk showed us beautiful Adirondack chairs, but they were wooden, and expensive. When I told him about the ad, he said, "Oh, that hardware store is in Blackwell. That's where they have them." He showed me the circular, and we went home empty handed.
Howard went to an evening meeting at a men's retreat and got home late, but I couldn't get the pretty, green chair out of my mind. This morning, he went to the retreat for breakfast and a service. I had all my chores done when he got home and was ready to get out of the house. "Let's go over to Blackwell and get one of those chairs for the front patio," I suggested. I didn't tell him I had already called, and they had one left in my color.
We squeezed it (and an ottoman) into our car, then since it was noon, we decided to eat lunch, dismissing a Mexican place, a pizza place and a few other restaurants. Finally we decided on Braum's. It was crowded, being right off I-35, and as we waited for our order a pretty young girl sat down across from us, while a slender, older lady went to the counter. When she came back, I realized it was a friend from high school, the class of 57!
I started to speak to her, but she had gone to another table and introduced herself. I knew she had moved away, so she was probably trying to connect to old acquaintances. I had run into her at a weekly Bible study when we first came back to this area a few years ago. She had married her best friend's older brother, who was a doctor, so I am sure they knew many people in Blackwell. In fact, her future husband had made a house call for me once when I was seriously ill with Asian flu and Mama called the doctor.
When she passed back by our table after a lengthy and animated visit with those in the booth behind us, I said, "Hi, Karen!" she smiled politely and said "Hi," then I told her my name. "From the Bible study...and high school!" I said. Then she brightened and recognized me, and her granddaughter said, "I'm Brooke." We talked a few minutes about their trip to see another granddaughter graduate.
"You have a beautiful granddaughter," I said, of the immaculately groomed, perfectly tanned, stylishly-dressed girl across from her. I didn't tell her she reminded me of our own granddaughter, who will hardly leave the house without straightening her hair and putting on make-up, although she would be beautiful without it.
Howard asked my friend about the people she had been talking to. He was sure he knew one of them, and when they were leaving, he met him and talked over old times and people they had both known. Turns out he was a brother to a guy Howard had gone to school with (sadly, deceased), who knew Howard's dad and the family.
"I remember your father-in-law," Howard said to Karen as we left, to which she said, "Yes, he made house-calls!" The older doctor and his son had a practice together back then.
"I enjoyed that!" my talked-out husband said as we headed home, and I agreed that it had been fun. Our spirits were lifted in spite of threatening weather, and we enjoyed the ride home on a newly-surfaced back road through verdant wheat fields just beginning to take on a gold tinge.
We were glad we decided on Braum's! We would never have had those chance meetings otherwise! When we see old school friends or acquaintances, the years seem to melt away and we are young again! Just like it will be in heaven, when we meet Jesus and our loved ones!
Oh yes, Howard loved the contoured chair. He has already tried it out and it has his seal of approval. And the apple-green color looks heavenly in front of my pastel flowers!
Howard went to an evening meeting at a men's retreat and got home late, but I couldn't get the pretty, green chair out of my mind. This morning, he went to the retreat for breakfast and a service. I had all my chores done when he got home and was ready to get out of the house. "Let's go over to Blackwell and get one of those chairs for the front patio," I suggested. I didn't tell him I had already called, and they had one left in my color.
We squeezed it (and an ottoman) into our car, then since it was noon, we decided to eat lunch, dismissing a Mexican place, a pizza place and a few other restaurants. Finally we decided on Braum's. It was crowded, being right off I-35, and as we waited for our order a pretty young girl sat down across from us, while a slender, older lady went to the counter. When she came back, I realized it was a friend from high school, the class of 57!
I started to speak to her, but she had gone to another table and introduced herself. I knew she had moved away, so she was probably trying to connect to old acquaintances. I had run into her at a weekly Bible study when we first came back to this area a few years ago. She had married her best friend's older brother, who was a doctor, so I am sure they knew many people in Blackwell. In fact, her future husband had made a house call for me once when I was seriously ill with Asian flu and Mama called the doctor.
When she passed back by our table after a lengthy and animated visit with those in the booth behind us, I said, "Hi, Karen!" she smiled politely and said "Hi," then I told her my name. "From the Bible study...and high school!" I said. Then she brightened and recognized me, and her granddaughter said, "I'm Brooke." We talked a few minutes about their trip to see another granddaughter graduate.
"You have a beautiful granddaughter," I said, of the immaculately groomed, perfectly tanned, stylishly-dressed girl across from her. I didn't tell her she reminded me of our own granddaughter, who will hardly leave the house without straightening her hair and putting on make-up, although she would be beautiful without it.
Howard asked my friend about the people she had been talking to. He was sure he knew one of them, and when they were leaving, he met him and talked over old times and people they had both known. Turns out he was a brother to a guy Howard had gone to school with (sadly, deceased), who knew Howard's dad and the family.
"I remember your father-in-law," Howard said to Karen as we left, to which she said, "Yes, he made house-calls!" The older doctor and his son had a practice together back then.
"I enjoyed that!" my talked-out husband said as we headed home, and I agreed that it had been fun. Our spirits were lifted in spite of threatening weather, and we enjoyed the ride home on a newly-surfaced back road through verdant wheat fields just beginning to take on a gold tinge.
We were glad we decided on Braum's! We would never have had those chance meetings otherwise! When we see old school friends or acquaintances, the years seem to melt away and we are young again! Just like it will be in heaven, when we meet Jesus and our loved ones!
Oh yes, Howard loved the contoured chair. He has already tried it out and it has his seal of approval. And the apple-green color looks heavenly in front of my pastel flowers!
Friday, May 15, 2015
Not Just a Day in the Country!
Today dawned rainy and cool as usual, and I was a little under the weather. About noon, though, the sun came out and my husband persuaded me to ride with him into the country to see a goat. But let me back up a little. Yesterday at a pet show at our granddaughter's school, I was admiring an unusual-looking hamster that looked like a mouse with whiskers that a dad had brought for his daughter.
"Well, it was either bring this, or two baby goats," the owner said. I kept quiet, but I saw Howard's ears perk up at the mention of the word "goats." Soon he was engrossed in conversation with the man, who in answer to Howard's question about the availability of goats for sale, said that his mother had some. So here we were today.
The little goat she was willing to sell was cute, and the billy goat that sired him was rather magnificent: A Spanish breed of goat with strange horns that they got in Mexico. My would-be farmer and goat fancier husband was having a wonderful time, pulling information out of our genial, if a little unusual, fellow goat lover. After a long conversation and inspection of various other animals on the place, it was decided that we would wait for the baby goat to be weaned before buying it. I thought it was time to go by then.
But not before we were shown their "awesome" dog. It was a monster! Huge, tiger-striped yellow-and-brindle with a bark like the roar of a lion! She said it was an English Mastiff. The dog was put back in the house when it looked like it might come through the fence toward us! We thanked the dog owner and got into our car as she went inside.
I picked up the phone from the seat and noticed our granddaughter Allison had called, about the time Howard discovered our car wouldn't start! To our shock and consternation, we were out of gas! He made me dial the householder's number to explain why we were still parked in front of her house, then I returned Allison's call. Turned out she was just up the road at her dad's shop and wanted a key to get something from inside. She said she would bring a can of gasoline to our aid.
Efforts to try to get it into the tank were futile, though. The spout of the can was too short. Our funnel was at home in our garage. We tried various makeshift devices and a tiny funnel from the resident's garage. Nothing worked. Allison said she would take us to look for a funnel in her dad's shop. No funnel was found. After my husband's unsuccessful search in the automotive department of a nearby store, our granddaughter took us all the way home to get one from our truck. I wanted to just stay home while there, but my house key was not in my purse, and Howard's key was with the one in our ignition back in the country.
Needless to say, we made it home after finally managing to funnel some fuel into the tank. As I reflected on our misadventure, I had to admit that it was providential that our granddaughter "just happened" to be so close and was able to help us. We had not seen her in over a month, nor had we had any contact with her, as she is always busy with her college schedule and/or working. And there she was just down the road from us! And her call was exactly on time! It had to be God!
I had to agree with Psalm 34:19, "Many are the afflictions of the righteous: But the Lord delivereth him out of them all." My husband insists we had gas all the time, that the car was just parked on uneven terrain. But I'm sure he will think twice before putting off a fill-up next time! As I will make certain to have my house key and that he carries a funnel! Some things are up to us!
"Well, it was either bring this, or two baby goats," the owner said. I kept quiet, but I saw Howard's ears perk up at the mention of the word "goats." Soon he was engrossed in conversation with the man, who in answer to Howard's question about the availability of goats for sale, said that his mother had some. So here we were today.
The little goat she was willing to sell was cute, and the billy goat that sired him was rather magnificent: A Spanish breed of goat with strange horns that they got in Mexico. My would-be farmer and goat fancier husband was having a wonderful time, pulling information out of our genial, if a little unusual, fellow goat lover. After a long conversation and inspection of various other animals on the place, it was decided that we would wait for the baby goat to be weaned before buying it. I thought it was time to go by then.
But not before we were shown their "awesome" dog. It was a monster! Huge, tiger-striped yellow-and-brindle with a bark like the roar of a lion! She said it was an English Mastiff. The dog was put back in the house when it looked like it might come through the fence toward us! We thanked the dog owner and got into our car as she went inside.
I picked up the phone from the seat and noticed our granddaughter Allison had called, about the time Howard discovered our car wouldn't start! To our shock and consternation, we were out of gas! He made me dial the householder's number to explain why we were still parked in front of her house, then I returned Allison's call. Turned out she was just up the road at her dad's shop and wanted a key to get something from inside. She said she would bring a can of gasoline to our aid.
Efforts to try to get it into the tank were futile, though. The spout of the can was too short. Our funnel was at home in our garage. We tried various makeshift devices and a tiny funnel from the resident's garage. Nothing worked. Allison said she would take us to look for a funnel in her dad's shop. No funnel was found. After my husband's unsuccessful search in the automotive department of a nearby store, our granddaughter took us all the way home to get one from our truck. I wanted to just stay home while there, but my house key was not in my purse, and Howard's key was with the one in our ignition back in the country.
Needless to say, we made it home after finally managing to funnel some fuel into the tank. As I reflected on our misadventure, I had to admit that it was providential that our granddaughter "just happened" to be so close and was able to help us. We had not seen her in over a month, nor had we had any contact with her, as she is always busy with her college schedule and/or working. And there she was just down the road from us! And her call was exactly on time! It had to be God!
I had to agree with Psalm 34:19, "Many are the afflictions of the righteous: But the Lord delivereth him out of them all." My husband insists we had gas all the time, that the car was just parked on uneven terrain. But I'm sure he will think twice before putting off a fill-up next time! As I will make certain to have my house key and that he carries a funnel! Some things are up to us!
Apple of His Eye
"Mimi," my 10-year old granddaughter "Kay" spoke over the phone,"will you pick us up after school Wednesday and take us to church later?" We often did this, although we usually picked them up at home at church time. They stay for an after-school program, so I agreed to pick them up at 5:15. "And one more thing," Kay went on, "can you bring Pebbles to school on Thursday for a dog show?"
I checked with Pa-Pa and he said we would. "It's at 2:15. Be there at 2:15," she emphasized. "If you forget, just call me and I'll remind you," the precise youngster stressed. (I smiled. I didn't know how we would call her, if we forgot!)
When we picked Kay and her younger sister Beth up, I told them we weren't taking them out to eat this time, because I had made supper at home. They loved the spaghetti, and enjoyed cake and jello with bananas for dessert. After their girls club meeting, Kay again reminded us of the dog show.
Howard went and bought Pebbles a new leash and collar. We weren't sure how she would react at school, since she is an alarmist barker when anyone walks by the house. She surprised us, though, and was pretty much on her best behavior, although she showed an uncommon interest in a hamster in its cage. (Howard nudged me and reminded me she has killed 3 hamsters in her career.)
This wasn't just a dog show, I realized. There were baby ducks in a cardboard box, a Sphinx cat in a sweater (it had little or no hair), a bird in a cage, and several more dogs, including a gorgeous Husky with arresting, luminous eyes of pale green, a St. George Spaniel, a small bulldog, a huge lab, and other small dogs. We were called in one by one, and finally, after 45 minutes of standing in the hall, it was our turn (Howard had given up and waited in the car).
Kay proudly held Pebbles for all to see. The teacher asked her name, how old she was, and if she did tricks. Kay demonstrated a kind of half-rollover she got Pebbles to do. Some of the queries from the teacher were a little awkward. "Where does she sleep?" she asked, "in a kennel, or in your room?" To fill the silence, I chimed in that she stays with Mimi and Pa-Pa.
Then from the assembled group of children, a teacher asked, "So you are ten years old, and you said the dog is ten. Did your parents get her for you when you were born?" Kay didn't say anything, so I explained that our granddaughter was adopted at age 6. "Oh, yes, I forgot," the teacher said.
I didn't explain that Pebbles is a casualty of divorce. Our son loves the dog, but he is gone for months working out of state, so she is left with us, with occasional visits to see the rest of the family. They also keep Pebbles if we are out of town, and the children love her. Although I complain about having a dog in the house, mussed sofa pillows, dog hair and accidents, apparently we have adopted her, because we love our son.
The Bible speaks of adoption several times, in that we are adopted into God's family through Jesus. "Having predestinated us unto the adoption of children by Jesus Christ to himself, according to the good pleasure of his will, To the praise of the glory of his grace, wherein he hath made us accepted in the beloved," Ephesians 1:5-6.
Romans 8:15 assures us, "...ye have received the Spirit of adoption, whereby we cry, Abba, Father. (16)The Spirit itself beareth witness with our spirit, that we are the children of God: (17) And if children, then heirs; heirs of God, and joint-heirs with Christ; if so be that we suffer with him, that we may also be glorified together." Jesus is a Son by nature, but we are sons by adoption. Praise God!
I checked with Pa-Pa and he said we would. "It's at 2:15. Be there at 2:15," she emphasized. "If you forget, just call me and I'll remind you," the precise youngster stressed. (I smiled. I didn't know how we would call her, if we forgot!)
When we picked Kay and her younger sister Beth up, I told them we weren't taking them out to eat this time, because I had made supper at home. They loved the spaghetti, and enjoyed cake and jello with bananas for dessert. After their girls club meeting, Kay again reminded us of the dog show.
Howard went and bought Pebbles a new leash and collar. We weren't sure how she would react at school, since she is an alarmist barker when anyone walks by the house. She surprised us, though, and was pretty much on her best behavior, although she showed an uncommon interest in a hamster in its cage. (Howard nudged me and reminded me she has killed 3 hamsters in her career.)
This wasn't just a dog show, I realized. There were baby ducks in a cardboard box, a Sphinx cat in a sweater (it had little or no hair), a bird in a cage, and several more dogs, including a gorgeous Husky with arresting, luminous eyes of pale green, a St. George Spaniel, a small bulldog, a huge lab, and other small dogs. We were called in one by one, and finally, after 45 minutes of standing in the hall, it was our turn (Howard had given up and waited in the car).
Kay proudly held Pebbles for all to see. The teacher asked her name, how old she was, and if she did tricks. Kay demonstrated a kind of half-rollover she got Pebbles to do. Some of the queries from the teacher were a little awkward. "Where does she sleep?" she asked, "in a kennel, or in your room?" To fill the silence, I chimed in that she stays with Mimi and Pa-Pa.
Then from the assembled group of children, a teacher asked, "So you are ten years old, and you said the dog is ten. Did your parents get her for you when you were born?" Kay didn't say anything, so I explained that our granddaughter was adopted at age 6. "Oh, yes, I forgot," the teacher said.
I didn't explain that Pebbles is a casualty of divorce. Our son loves the dog, but he is gone for months working out of state, so she is left with us, with occasional visits to see the rest of the family. They also keep Pebbles if we are out of town, and the children love her. Although I complain about having a dog in the house, mussed sofa pillows, dog hair and accidents, apparently we have adopted her, because we love our son.
The Bible speaks of adoption several times, in that we are adopted into God's family through Jesus. "Having predestinated us unto the adoption of children by Jesus Christ to himself, according to the good pleasure of his will, To the praise of the glory of his grace, wherein he hath made us accepted in the beloved," Ephesians 1:5-6.
Romans 8:15 assures us, "...ye have received the Spirit of adoption, whereby we cry, Abba, Father. (16)The Spirit itself beareth witness with our spirit, that we are the children of God: (17) And if children, then heirs; heirs of God, and joint-heirs with Christ; if so be that we suffer with him, that we may also be glorified together." Jesus is a Son by nature, but we are sons by adoption. Praise God!
Thursday, May 14, 2015
Call Home
"Oh, we missed a call!" I said to my husband yesterday at the breakfast table. I had gone into the bedroom to get the phone, and in surprise I exclaimed, "Corrin called! At 6:30 this morning!" Our granddaughter in Georgia rarely calls us, and she would be in school several states away by this time, but I rang her phone, in case it was important. There was no answer, but a few minutes later I heard the ping of a text.
"I wanted to ask for prayer for my friend's mom," it read, "I will call you later with details." Sure enough, a couple hours later she called back, explaining her concern for a seemingly grave, mysterious illness of the lady. I told her that Pa-Pa wasn't present at the moment, and we would pray for her when he came home, but I would pray right then.
Afterwards, I could hear the emotion in her voice when she said, "That's why I wanted to call. I wanted you to pray for me over the phone." The 17-year-old called again later, even more concerned. She had said the mother of her best friend was like a second mom to her. We were in the car, and I gave the phone to Howard to pray. I knew she would be comforted by her grandfather's fervent prayers.
Last night when we got home from Bible study I texted our daughter to see how the patient was. She responded that they could not find what was wrong with her, but that she was in a major hospital in Atlanta. "We had prayer for her at church," I said, for after the Bible study, which broke up rather informally, I saw two women I knew as prayer warriors in the hall and had them pray with me.
When I said it was so sweet of Corrin to call us, Amy said, "She wanted to call at six this morning! I told her she should just text, but she said, 'No, I want them to pray over the phone with me!'"
There is an old song called "The Royal Telephone," which compares prayer to a phone call to Jesus. It was written when telephone service was a new and novel thing, inspiring the songwriter with this Christian song. While the song was popular and well received, I'm glad we don't need a telephone to talk to the Lord! He hears us without a telephone call when we pray, and we always have a direct connection with him!
The Bible says Jesus lives to make intercession for us! "Wherefore he is able to save them to the uttermost that come unto God by him, seeing he ever liveth to make intercession for them," Hebrews 7:25! Mark 16:19 says he sits on the right hand of God! And again, in Romans: "...It is Christ that died, yea rather, that is risen again, who is even at the right hand of God, who also maketh intercession for us," Romans 8:34.
As much as grandparents love to pray for their grandchildren, it is nothing compared to Jesus' love for His children as He intercedes for us to God, His Father!
"I wanted to ask for prayer for my friend's mom," it read, "I will call you later with details." Sure enough, a couple hours later she called back, explaining her concern for a seemingly grave, mysterious illness of the lady. I told her that Pa-Pa wasn't present at the moment, and we would pray for her when he came home, but I would pray right then.
Afterwards, I could hear the emotion in her voice when she said, "That's why I wanted to call. I wanted you to pray for me over the phone." The 17-year-old called again later, even more concerned. She had said the mother of her best friend was like a second mom to her. We were in the car, and I gave the phone to Howard to pray. I knew she would be comforted by her grandfather's fervent prayers.
Last night when we got home from Bible study I texted our daughter to see how the patient was. She responded that they could not find what was wrong with her, but that she was in a major hospital in Atlanta. "We had prayer for her at church," I said, for after the Bible study, which broke up rather informally, I saw two women I knew as prayer warriors in the hall and had them pray with me.
When I said it was so sweet of Corrin to call us, Amy said, "She wanted to call at six this morning! I told her she should just text, but she said, 'No, I want them to pray over the phone with me!'"
There is an old song called "The Royal Telephone," which compares prayer to a phone call to Jesus. It was written when telephone service was a new and novel thing, inspiring the songwriter with this Christian song. While the song was popular and well received, I'm glad we don't need a telephone to talk to the Lord! He hears us without a telephone call when we pray, and we always have a direct connection with him!
The Bible says Jesus lives to make intercession for us! "Wherefore he is able to save them to the uttermost that come unto God by him, seeing he ever liveth to make intercession for them," Hebrews 7:25! Mark 16:19 says he sits on the right hand of God! And again, in Romans: "...It is Christ that died, yea rather, that is risen again, who is even at the right hand of God, who also maketh intercession for us," Romans 8:34.
As much as grandparents love to pray for their grandchildren, it is nothing compared to Jesus' love for His children as He intercedes for us to God, His Father!
Tuesday, May 12, 2015
May Morning
Yesterday was the most gorgeous, cerulean blue-sky day in weeks! The temperature was resort-like, sweater-weather cool in the morning but warming under a benevolent sun rising to its zenith. I couldn't get enough of it. I watched my husband turn shaggy lawns into carpets of verdant green as he sat on the riding mower doing endless loops over our son's and our yards. He is at it again today, I think as much for the fun of it as the necessity of beating back nature in her attempt to swamp us in a rain-induced jungle.
We are having the second day of respite from downpours, but the forecast is rain and thunderstorms for the rest of the week, with the sun coming out on Sunday. We are thankful for the window of opportunity to get things done between showers. Howard's artistic side is evident in the way he mowed our front lawn. "I want to leave the clover," he said, "I want it to go to seed." So now we have neat little stands of clover, oval islands of blossoms like white foam in an emerald sea.
I'm glad he left the clover, because I see honey bees sipping its nectar. I love clover honey! They have also been buzzing around the brightly colored flowers in pots on our front patio. It's beginning to look like a flower garden out there as the plants proliferate in a profusion of color. I must stop adding things, but I couldn't resist a cute, scrolled, steel basket hanger I saw on sale today. I hung a small fern on it, but there is also a shelf to hold a potted plant if I choose.
My pansies are loving the extended spell of cool, rainy weather! Their little faces shine cheerily as they bob up and down peeking over the rim of their pots. A basket of pink impatiens, ordinarily a shade plant, is blooming happily in the infrequent, cool sunshine. A sun-tolerant variety of impatiens on an old, slatted bench, is doing well, too, as are the petunias, marigolds and zinnias in their planters. A couple of geraniums are a bright spot of red in their terra cotta pot. We have one in a hanging basket on our side fence out back, as well.
Jesus loved gardens, I believe, as He and his disciples often resorted to a garden to pray. In fact, it was in the garden with olive trees that Jesus was taken by soldiers after his betrayal by Judas. Of course, human life began in the Garden of Eden, God's perfect garden. "And the Lord God planted a garden eastward in Eden; and there he put the man who he had formed," Genesis 2:8.
Nature's transformation is pictured in Isaiah's descriptive language of the millennial reign of Christ, when "The wolf also will dwell with the lamb, And the leopard shall lie down with the kid; And the calf and the young lion and the fatling together; And a little child shall lead them," Isaiah 11:6. I'm confident there will be gardens and flowers there, for Isaiah 65:21 says, "...And they shall plant vineyards, and eat the fruit of them." What a morning that will be!
We are having the second day of respite from downpours, but the forecast is rain and thunderstorms for the rest of the week, with the sun coming out on Sunday. We are thankful for the window of opportunity to get things done between showers. Howard's artistic side is evident in the way he mowed our front lawn. "I want to leave the clover," he said, "I want it to go to seed." So now we have neat little stands of clover, oval islands of blossoms like white foam in an emerald sea.
I'm glad he left the clover, because I see honey bees sipping its nectar. I love clover honey! They have also been buzzing around the brightly colored flowers in pots on our front patio. It's beginning to look like a flower garden out there as the plants proliferate in a profusion of color. I must stop adding things, but I couldn't resist a cute, scrolled, steel basket hanger I saw on sale today. I hung a small fern on it, but there is also a shelf to hold a potted plant if I choose.
My pansies are loving the extended spell of cool, rainy weather! Their little faces shine cheerily as they bob up and down peeking over the rim of their pots. A basket of pink impatiens, ordinarily a shade plant, is blooming happily in the infrequent, cool sunshine. A sun-tolerant variety of impatiens on an old, slatted bench, is doing well, too, as are the petunias, marigolds and zinnias in their planters. A couple of geraniums are a bright spot of red in their terra cotta pot. We have one in a hanging basket on our side fence out back, as well.
Jesus loved gardens, I believe, as He and his disciples often resorted to a garden to pray. In fact, it was in the garden with olive trees that Jesus was taken by soldiers after his betrayal by Judas. Of course, human life began in the Garden of Eden, God's perfect garden. "And the Lord God planted a garden eastward in Eden; and there he put the man who he had formed," Genesis 2:8.
Nature's transformation is pictured in Isaiah's descriptive language of the millennial reign of Christ, when "The wolf also will dwell with the lamb, And the leopard shall lie down with the kid; And the calf and the young lion and the fatling together; And a little child shall lead them," Isaiah 11:6. I'm confident there will be gardens and flowers there, for Isaiah 65:21 says, "...And they shall plant vineyards, and eat the fruit of them." What a morning that will be!
The Broken Rose
The heavy rains lately have been very hard on our roses. The Knock-Out roses had done just that, knocking themselves out, so to speak, with their extravagant blooms. We knew they were getting over loaded and planned to trim them back later on. But we were shocked after torrential rains to see the bushes bent to the ground the other morning!
"Can we tie them up, or something?" I implored my husband. I remembered a pack of heavy brown twine that was left over from some rustic-themed Christmas wrappings I had bought. It worked! Tied to the branches that had drooped, and pulled taut to an iron bracket on the house, the bush was restored to its former glory! The twine was invisible from a distance, even though it was criss-crossed plentifully throughout the bush.
It reminded me of the scripture in Isaiah telling us, "A bruised reed shall he not break, and the smoking flax shall he not quench," Isaiah 42:3. This is part of a prophecy of the Messiah, who is called "my servant," in verse 1. Bruised reed can also mean bent reed, like my rose branches. Jesus does not give up on people easily, but instead wants to mend broken lives. No matter how desperate the circumstances , there is usually some small glimmer of hope hiding somewhere, and Jesus will not extinguish it. Like a smoldering coal covered with ash, the breath of the Holy Spirit can breath new life into the situation.
In our women's group at church, we have been looking into the lives of notable women in the Bible. We read about Hannah, Samuel's mother, who would not give up the hope of having a child, even promising to turn him over to the Lord if her prayers were answered. During a time of much agonizing and weeping in prayer, the priest Eli, overheard, and at first thinking her to be drunk, told Hannah to go in peace, that her desire would be granted. She rejoiced and saw the fulfillment of her hope.
Another strong woman of the Bible was Leah, the unintended wife of Jacob. She wanted desperately for him to love her, but he loved Rachel, whom he also married. In Leah's obsession to bear many sons to gain his love, she was always disappointed. But God remembered her, and it was her son, Judah, not Rachel's son, who was in the lineage of Jesus Christ.
Often times our spirits are bruised. We long for distant loved ones, or have other desires that seem hopeless and never to be fulfilled. "Hope deferred maketh the heart sick: But when the desire cometh, it is a tree of life," Proverbs 13:12. A famous work by Johann Sebastian Bach, Jesu, Joy of Man's Desiring says it all. When our desire is for Him, it is a tree of life!
"Can we tie them up, or something?" I implored my husband. I remembered a pack of heavy brown twine that was left over from some rustic-themed Christmas wrappings I had bought. It worked! Tied to the branches that had drooped, and pulled taut to an iron bracket on the house, the bush was restored to its former glory! The twine was invisible from a distance, even though it was criss-crossed plentifully throughout the bush.
It reminded me of the scripture in Isaiah telling us, "A bruised reed shall he not break, and the smoking flax shall he not quench," Isaiah 42:3. This is part of a prophecy of the Messiah, who is called "my servant," in verse 1. Bruised reed can also mean bent reed, like my rose branches. Jesus does not give up on people easily, but instead wants to mend broken lives. No matter how desperate the circumstances , there is usually some small glimmer of hope hiding somewhere, and Jesus will not extinguish it. Like a smoldering coal covered with ash, the breath of the Holy Spirit can breath new life into the situation.
In our women's group at church, we have been looking into the lives of notable women in the Bible. We read about Hannah, Samuel's mother, who would not give up the hope of having a child, even promising to turn him over to the Lord if her prayers were answered. During a time of much agonizing and weeping in prayer, the priest Eli, overheard, and at first thinking her to be drunk, told Hannah to go in peace, that her desire would be granted. She rejoiced and saw the fulfillment of her hope.
Another strong woman of the Bible was Leah, the unintended wife of Jacob. She wanted desperately for him to love her, but he loved Rachel, whom he also married. In Leah's obsession to bear many sons to gain his love, she was always disappointed. But God remembered her, and it was her son, Judah, not Rachel's son, who was in the lineage of Jesus Christ.
Often times our spirits are bruised. We long for distant loved ones, or have other desires that seem hopeless and never to be fulfilled. "Hope deferred maketh the heart sick: But when the desire cometh, it is a tree of life," Proverbs 13:12. A famous work by Johann Sebastian Bach, Jesu, Joy of Man's Desiring says it all. When our desire is for Him, it is a tree of life!
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