Where the Wild(flowers) Are

My husband Bill and I went for a hike yesterday on a trail known for its springtime display of wildflowers.  At first we walked at a pace conducive to a fitness hike.  The sunlight cut through the trees like a spotlight on a incredible arrangement of new greenery.  As we trekked along the trail, the landscape looked like an elaborate green carpet, comprised of a random selection of plants.

But then we slowed down to a crawl, examining the tiny flowers around us, looking up each one in a field guide, and identifying each type by the shape of the bloom, the colors, and the attachment of leaves. As we looked closer, the green came alive.  There was no randomness here at all, but a precious collection of flowers, identifiable by the intricacy of design, each one carrying the distinct markings of a family, every plant personalized.  They all had names.

As we were passing a young couple on the trail, the young man asked us with excitement if we had seen the Jack in the Pulpit by the side of the trail, a hundred feet back.  He pulled out his phone and showed us a picture of the plant.  "They are rare," he said.  "I haven't seen one in five years."  We traipsed back, and sure enough, nestled among some wild violets, we spotted the small plant.

"Hike like a three year old," Bill remarked.  We know how slow three-year-old grandchildren walk, looking  closely at every pebble and bug and flower.  "What is that?"  "Look at this."  And Howie's favorite, "What dat called?"  I hope that we never lose that sense of wonder.

We returned mid-afternoon from our jaunt through nature, marveling at the beauty we saw.  And as I rambled alongside the cabin, picking up sticks blown down from a storm, I saw the wildness of our own backyard with different eyes.

Dwarf crested irises surrounded the big tree in our side yard.  And I saw enormous pink, yellow and white Trilliums that would have dwarfed the ones we saw on the trail. 

Both underneath the deck and over by the woodpile, I immediately spotted two Jack in the Pulpits, which I am sure I have passed by a hundred times, not knowing what they were.

We didn't need to travel anywhere at all to discover what is rare and beautiful.  Our culture and our own ambitions push us to keep our eyes on the next yard over, always looking for the next step, or pursuing the next season of our lives.  And we miss what is right before our eyes, precious, good and full of wonder.

And so, this morning, as I prayed to be sensitive to the next step God has for us, I stopped mid-sentence, and prayed that God would fulfill this step.  I don't want to miss it.

...yet you have brought us forth
        to a spacious place.

                       Psalm 66.12

The Spider and the Snake

Our oldest daughter’s family spent a week at our cabin recently.  When we returned late one night, we turned back the covers to get in bed, exhausted from a long day of driving.  And on my pillow was a large fuzzy spider, and on my husband’s pillow was a coiled snake.  In this case, it was not a cause of alarm, but a joke concocted  by the minds of our four year old granddaughter and three year old grandson.  These fearful objects were just old Beany Baby stuffed animals from the toy chest.

They were not real, but just the product of an entrepreneur’s imagination.  Indeed, the snake was even smiling – in a good sort of way.

I crawled in bed, still chuckling.  And I thought about all the ridiculous things that I have feared through the years, products of my own imaginings.   A house always creaks most in the middle of the night.  Dark shadows appear when my confidence wanes.  Phantoms from my past threaten to emerge out of nowhere at the most inconvenient moments.  And of course, the biggest fear, able to adhere itself to any situation, “What if….?”

We all have a list of fearful things that when revealed we lament, “I was afraid of that??!!”

Know your fears. Know when to flee for your life.

Know when to laugh.

The fear of man lays a snare,

but he who trusts in the LORD

                                       is safe.

          

                Proverbs 29.25

Traveling mercies

God never leads into the unknown,
but only into what
            I don't know yet.
God does not guide me into mystery,
       but only into trusting Him more.
He does not just go with me,
but before me,
behind me,
around me,
          and within.
He is not even limited by time,
  and I have only
      a toddler's conception of it.
God moves freely in eternity,
and I cannot even know
   what the next hour will bring.
He cares even when I don't understand,
He leads me through impossible seas,
              through the valley of scary places,
     and not just to the mountaintop,
              but moves them when necessary,
     sometimes when I am not even aware.
God weaves
         a quilt of His redeeming,
past,
present
and future together
               in His grace,
       wrapped around us.
I have only to follow Him into it.
               
Does not the LORD
      go out before you?

                   Judges 4.14

There when you need it most

Sometimes there are seasons we don't expect.
And sometimes reasons too deep for us to comprehend.
And God redeems it all.
His purposes are not dependent on my understanding
          or my approval.
And even the mysteries to me
     are no surprise to Him a bit.
And God redeems it all.

I read a Psalm this morning
that will always stand to me
as a reminder of God's faithfulness.

I was eighteen.  All my friends had left for college, conquering exciting new frontiers. I was still at home, our family struggling with an unemployed father who had big dreams of starting his own business and no money to do it... and certainly no money for me to go to college.  This was not quite what I had pictured, but it was reality.

When faced with incredible struggles, my grandmother never wasted time on asking "why me?"  She poured her energy into "ok, well, what can we do about it?"  She was one of the most creative people I have ever known.  She could turn an empty cupboard into a feast, literally and figuratively.

Instead of traveling to the small college that accepted me, I found myself on a different road, commuting through a wilderness of sorts, 45 minutes each way to take classes twice a week at the community college. That was financed by living at home, working part time at a factory the other three days of the work week, and yet another job ushering at the symphony and theater all weekend.

And on those long commutes to school and work in a car without a radio, one ordinary day, I began to memorize Psalm 100.  And those words began to seep into my heart and change it.  God's Word never returns void.  It didn't just give me something to do or to distract me from total boredom, God used it to strengthen me and keep me from despair.  I could not change my circumstances that year, but God changed how I saw my situation and redeemed it.

Psalm 100 was part of my reading this morning.  And I found those joyful words still engraved in my heart and mind, a pathway rubbed deep from many times traversing it.

God's Word emerges from the very ground and embraces with a strong hug, no matter what wilderness where you may find yourself.

Make a joyful noise to the LORD,
              all the lands!
Serve the LORD with gladness!
Come into His presence with singing!
Know that the LORD is God!
It is He that made us,
    and not we ourselves;
we are His people,
    and the sheep of His pasture.
Enter His gates with thanksgiving,
    and His courts with praise.
Give thanks to Him,
                bless His name!
For the LORD is good;
His steadfast love endures for ever,
and His faithfulness
            to all generations.

                        Psalm 100



           

Stories all around us

Everyone has a story.
Everyone.

A sweet friend shared a powerful message with me this week, that which happened in her church after the Easter sermon, that which happens because of the Resurrection.  These are people she worships with every Sunday, ordinary people with extraordinary stories of redemption. Click this link, and see what God does best.

He changes lives.

The world says we are stuck.
But God proves differently.

I am crucified with Christ;
it is no longer I who live,
but Christ who lives in me,
and the life I now live in the flesh,
I live by faith in the Son of God
who loved me
     and gave Himself for me.

                  Galatians 2.20