The Rose

My Daddy taught me to love gardening and I think of him every year around Valentine’s Day.  Why? A couple of reasons. One is that he always brought me the first Narcissus bloom around this time. As we reminisced about that, I told mom that I was sorry he didn’t bring them to her and she simply said, “Never!” I guess he knew how much I loved them and how many memories they carried from my childhood. A simple gesture of love, really.  

The other reason is that he never let me forget that roses need to be pruned around February 14^th.  I forget lots of things that he taught me about gardening, but never that.  No matter what the weather, the  clippers come out this time of year and I start chopping away.  I’m really not knowledgeable enough to do a great job, but I listen to his voice in my head saying, “You have to cut it back more than you think but not so much that it can’t survive.”

Daddy was a preacher. Even when he wasn’t preaching. 

This year, as I studied the branches that were crossing, crowded areas that needed more sun and dead branches that wouldn’t survive, I carefully clipped. “Carefully” because those thorns never fail to get me.  No matter how careful I am, my hands are poked, scratched and bleeding by the end of the day.  But that’s the price you pay for a healthy plant and beautiful roses in a few more months.  

Roses…the symbol of love this time of year.  As people are paying lots of money for a dozen roses to give to someone they love, I’m cutting back a plant that looks like it may not survive.  And I feel it’s pain. 

Deeper than any other year of pruning…I feel every snip of the clippers. I feel the doubt that it will produce a flourishing plant full of blooms that bring joy and color to the world. I feel the fear that I’m cutting so much that it’s simply going to give up and die. 

And I wonder if God is doing too much pruning for my heart to handle. 

Will I come out of this healthier?  More fruitful? Beautiful? 

I have to trust that the master gardener knows what he’s doing better than my daddy did.  I have to trust in the truth that I’ve always seen these roses come back to life.  In fact, that’s why I love spring. Because it’s a living lesson that life comes after death in this world…and in my heart. In God’s economy, it ALWAYS does.

I make a conscious decision to surrender to his hands and to his wisdom.  I can’t understand the ways of God but I do understand that he loves me. He knows my heart. He knows my need. And he knows where we are headed. So, if he’s doing the delicate work of pruning in my life, he’s doing it with a plan in mind.  Even when I can’t see it, I can trust that his goal is to have a fruitful plant that brings love and beauty into his world. Even when I become prickly and fight back against the process, he gently whispers to my heart and moves me forward  at a pace I can handle.

Looking at this rose bush, I’m concerned that it looks lifeless and has suffered a traumatic loss, but God encourages me that he has created a world that will bring abundance and beauty as it (and I) simply receive what He provides. It all comes from his hand.  It’s all grace.  It’s all love.  And the thorns and cutting and death of the season will only produce more beauty and love to share in the next.   

So, Lord…let it be.

Walls of Dubrovnik

We build walls so easily. So naturally.

Without even realizing it, our hands pick up stones that are mindlessly laid one upon another.

Year after year, the walls reach higher and higher and higher while we instinctively know what we need and what we desire, but, what is not so naturally given or received.

Connection.

Sending out tentative tendrils of a look, a touch, a word….hoping for someone to respond.

Someone to reach over the wall, dig under it, knock out a stone…whatever it might take to touch.

Blind to the way we’ve constructed the world around us. The world that is comfortable but suffocating.

Protected yet alone.

Unchallenged but drab.

Demolishing defenses comes so slowly.

So purposefully.

So painfully and fearfully but… SO WISELY.

With age, maybe, we learn that our walls have outlived their purpose and that safety isn’t nearly as important as love.

Spring Always Comes

Spring has begun to show itself here in Texas and, although it hasn’t been a harsh winter, it’s a welcome friend. I love Spring with every part of my being.  I love the fragrance of fresh-cut grass, newly budding flowers and spring rains.  I love the vibrant colors of our Texas sunsets and the various shades of this beautiful green earth placed against the bright blue sky. I love the sound of birds in the morning, children laughing in a park and lawn mowers humming. And I love the feel of the sun on my skin and the certainty that Spring will always come.

No matter how long the winter.

This affinity for Spring is in my blood.  My Nanny was a gardener with a green thumb that I can only dream of having.  Her yard is still one of my favorite childhood memories that has become something of a fairytale in my mind.  A place of beauty and wonder that seemed larger than life.  Much larger than I’m sure it was.  Every Easter, my Papaw would take me to the little town of Many, Louisiana to buy a new dress at the “5 and Dime” store so I could wear it to the Hodges Garden’s Sunrise Easter service. I was so small that I barely remember more than putting on my new dress and paten leather shoes, falling asleep in the car and waking to the sound of hymns and the warmth of the sunrise coming up over the most beautiful field of azaleas that you can imagine. The memories could go on and on…sitting on the back of my daddy’s bike and riding through Audubon Park…pulling up sprigs of grass and little white flowers off our shrubs to make my mom a homemade corsage for Easter…hunting for eggs after church…crawfish boils…family picnics with chips, cokes and bologna sandwiches at roadside parks on spring break road trips.

Spring is full of life to me.  Feeling it, smelling it, seeing it, hearing it, tasting it, living it but, most importantly, remembering that it always comes.  Life that is.

As I sit on my porch for the first time this year and watch the birds at my feeders, I’m grateful for the fact that winter can never stop spring from coming.  It’s not that I hate winter.  It’s a needed part of life and, to be brutally honest, winter makes spring so much more beautiful and not just because we appreciate it more after long months of darkness.  A hard winter actually does something deep in the earth to make plants more vibrant and to kill certain pests. Winter can seem hopeless at the time but there’s a rhyme and reason to it. There’s truly is a purpose for each season even if it’s difficult to see at times.

The concept that each season has a purpose and actually prepares us for the next is not an earth shattering one. I’m sure it isn’t new to you either.   But, I feel compelled to acknowledge how this last year has chiseled this truth down deep into my soul. My faith has been strengthened as I’ve seen God’s faithfulness in bringing about each season at just the right time and for his perfect purposes in each. It’s also grown a passion in me to be actively involved in each season of life and to make each as productive as humanly possible.

You might think, “God is in control of the seasons, what do we have to do with it?” What I mean is…I want to be a gardener. I want to work the soil of my life in such a way that God is glorified when Spring comes.  We aren’t called to a passive life of tentatively pursuing or obeying God while we wait to see what happens.  Granted, we don’t know what’s coming in our lives but we can know that something is coming. Winter always does.  It’s a necessity of life.  It can take many forms but we can’t avoid it. It may be that life simply gets dark, cold or dull. It may mean that we experience hopelessness, death, sorrow or pain. Whatever it may be, at some point,  we will always encounter winter.  BUT, we also encounter spring, summer and fall. God is so gracious in that way. The question is, will we make the most of the time we have in each?

Proverbs 6:6-8 says “Take a lesson from the ants, you lazybones.  Learn from their ways and become wise! Though they have no prince or governor or ruler to make them work, they labor hard all summer, gathering food for the winter.” And Proverbs 20:4 says it like this, “Those too lazy to plow in the right season will have no food at the harvest.”

The truth of the statement “God prepares and provides for our future trials today” has been revealed to me as I’ve seen how past obedience  resulted in a foundation strong enough to  sustain me in a storm. Yes, he is a gracious and merciful God who often gives us what we need even when we have turned a deaf ear to the Spirit; but, preparation and provision for the winter often come through the work done in the summertime of life.

Summer is a time of hard work! If you’ve ever had a garden that you’ve started from seed or planted by hand you know how difficult it can be. Tilling up hard ground, pulling up all sorts of stuff you don’t want to grow, adding fertilizer to prepare the soil…it’s backbreaking and exhausting.  On top of that, it’s SLOW! As you wait to see the first sign of growth peeking up through the dirt, you can start to wonder if anything is actually happening.  Then, once things start to grow, it’s still a long process of weeding, fertilizing and waiting to see the fruit of your labor.  That’s our part in the process. God is in charge of the growth and the timing of it all but we have the responsibility and privilege to get our hands dirty in the endeavor and to feel the joy that comes in the harvest.

Speaking of harvest…I love that season too.  I love the feeling of accomplishment that comes with picking, eating and canning the fruit of the summer.  Of shorter days and cooler nights spent with family around the table eating fresh vegetables and having long talks.  We don’t seem to anticipate the winter in the fall.  I mean, we know it’s coming at some point but I never really know when or have a clue at how bad it will be.  So, my focus is usually on the moment and on enjoying what God has provided. I seldom think of what I’ll be facing in a few months; unlike my grandparents who had a keen awareness of their need to be prepared for the winter. My ability to run to Wal-Mart for food in December has stripped the power from the meaning behind this concept of preparation. Or, at least, it’s lessoned the urgency of it for me. However, spiritually speaking, the urgency is there and the importance of preparing our hearts during the summer and autumn of life in order to face the winter can’t be stressed enough.  It will keep us going when life seems overwhelming.  It will keep hope in our hearts, breath in our lungs and warmth in our souls when all around us is death, fear and darkness.

The things that we didn’t realize God was planting in us during those long, hot days of summer as we obediently spent time in His word, cultivated community, sought to know him in prayer and ruthlessly dealt with the selfishness and sin that so easily snuck into our lives will prove to be exactly what we need.  The fruit that we finally see God produce in our lives when we desire his will above our own and as he lavishly pours out grace and blessing over us will become the very thing we offer as a blessing  to others  in our darkest days. All the time spent growing to know and love our Father will sustain that love when all we have are questions.  During my own personal winter that was full of fear, uncertainty, sorrow and shame, God spoke these verses deep into my soul as an encouragement and a prayer to make the most of  that season.

“But they delight in the law of the Lord, meditating on it day and night.  They are like trees planted along the riverbank, bearing fruit each season. Their leaves never wither, and they prosper in all they do.”

Psalm 1:2-3

That time reminded me that I want to live my life during the spring and summer seasons in such a way that allows me to bear fruit of some sort even in the winter. (Even if it’s just to continue wanting to continue when all I really feel like doing is giving up).  I hope that my faith in His goodness and kindness is never eclipsed by my own suffering and heartache.  And, my desire is to so thoroughly kill fear during the coming summers that nothing but love, faith and trust survives and thrives to carry me through whatever winters are still to come.

Because I know this to be true…. Spring will always come.

One way or another…life will break through the darkness in Technicolor beauty that touches every one of my senses. I will be grateful for the chance to partner with Christ, in some small way, as an apprentice gardener to this world around me that He has planted and tended so lovingly. And God will remind me of His limitless creativity and passion to bless me in countless ways as I sit in awe of His ability to revive, restore and resurrect.

All for His glory.

Chiaroscuro

I’ve been praying for light lately.  Light that reveals truth.  Light that gives direction. Light that chases away darkness.  I’ve been praying that we would recognize His light, that we would be drawn to it, comforted by it, changed in it and inspired to shine it regardless of the darkness we might find ourselves in.

I’ve been praying that God would speak four words over so many lives.  Four words that He spoke at the beginning of time … “Let there be light!”

Maybe this prayer has seemed so relevant because so much around me seems dark lately.  The struggles people are faced with as well as the world we live in.  It just seems dark.   Doesn’t it?  Or is it just me?  It could just be me.  After all, God has been teaching me a basic truth about light over the last few years.   I’ve learned that we don’t really see the beauty or truth of light without experiencing some darkness.  Not that I have enjoyed it, but seeing and walking through darkness, even in the smallest way, has only magnified God’s light.

Chiaroscuro is an Italian term that roughly means “light and dark”. It’s an art term that describes a method of using light and dark paint to accentuate the volume, mass, details and contrasts of a subject.  At times, the contrast of light and dark can become more important than the object being painted and can actually become the subject itself.

 

That’s what I’ve decided.

No matter what circumstance or topic, the comparison between God’s light and evils’ darkness is literaly night and day. Experiencing God’s light only heightens the utter void of walking in the dark once more.  And, experiencing the dark side of my own humanity only heightens the miraculous glory of experiencing God’s gracious light.  Once my heart sees the magnitude of how both effect people and our world and the detail of light’s beauty and darkness’s sorrow – my relationship with God changes. My relationship with others changes. Gratitude wells up from the depths of a soul that is grateful for being “brought out of darkness into God’s marvelous light.”  Worship ceases to be something I do out of habit on Sunday mornings and becomes how I live every moment of my life.  Singing songs takes on a new sincerity and passion with every word that I can then relate to.  Reading scripture becomes a treasure hunt for truths that will shine more light into my life and, consequently, into my world.

There have been moments in the past when I sang words that I didn’t understand.  I hadn’t experienced the freedom, forgiveness, love or closeness to Christ that I was singing about and I wondered if my hollow words were normal.  There were times when I read passages and thought to myself, “Does this kind of relationship with God really happen?  Or, is what I know all there is?”

I’m convinced that many people in our churches feel similar things.

For me, the enemy had lulled me into thinking I knew what the light of God was when I really had no clue. It was as if I’d been sitting in a dark wooded area at night with a little match lighting my surroundings and no idea of what the sun would do when it rose over the horizon. The match gave me some light, and it was good, but it was a tiny bit of what was available.

There’s no limit to God’s light.  It’s magnificent.  It’s life giving.  Darkness can not exist in it. There’s more light than we can experience or comprehend and God offers it freely.

The question is, do we want it? How badly?  Do you, as a child of God, want to know more of His light than you already know?  Even if it means you see the darkness more clearly?

Then ask our Father of Light to reveal more of himself to you. Ask Him to speak those words into your life in a new and deeper way than you’ve ever known.

“Let there be light!”

And keep asking until you feel the sun coming up over the horizon and shining on your face.  Until you look back at what you didn’t even know was darkness only to praise His great faithfulness for making you new every morning and for opening your eyes to more of who He is. To more of His light.