Thirsty Love…
Lots of flowers in pots and a raised bed garden means…lots of watering. To garden like this means you’ve really got to love it – those little yellow marigold skirts and petunia faces are thirsty. My love part: water. Their love part: looking pretty.
I wish I could garden vegetables – that’s not a love relationship. I have tried several times. The raccoon stole my pineapple the night before I went to cut it. I went out, knife in hand, only to find a stump and no pineapple. The horn worms love my tomatoes. Something loves the zucchini, apparently when I’m not looking. So its more a love/hate relationship. Loving person that I want to be, I figured I better give up on the veges…
Friendships get thirsty too. With my dear friend of over 28 years, over 3,000 miles away, 3 different time zones between us, and different schedules – we make sure to water our friendship with regular phone calls, emails, notes, whatever. Too beautiful to let it dry up.
Marriages get especially thirsty. My hubby of 32 years is a good waterer – sweet notes, kind deeds, big hugs. Different seasons in the marriage need different kinds of watering, sometimes there’s only time for a sprinkle and others a deep soaking. No matter, make sure to tend to it, lest it dry up when you’re not looking.
Children are the easiest to quench, but also the most demanding. It’s not a once in a while drink but a constant stream of cheering on, picking up and dusting off, helping with homework, chauffeuring, feeding, nursing, hugging and kissing. They don’t know about the unending (even once their adults) worry watering we do as well.
Reminds me that the best watering we can do for any relationship is prayer watering. It can quench the misunderstandings, the long distance, the fatigue, the deepest parts that only God can nourish. Next time you put a flower in a vase, water the grass or the garden, mist the houseplants – think about someone who could use some God sized watering and turn the spigot on…
Sandy Toes…
My earliest memory is feeling like the sand was running out from under my feet and the dizzy feeling like I might topple over. I was fortunate enough to live about thirty minutes from the white silver sands of Florida’s panhandle when I was young.
My mother loved taking me to the beach and all these years later I can hear her laughter as her wide eyed three year old stood toes in the lapping waves wondering where the earth beneath her feet was going.
Gotta love the signs sometimes seen in beach stores: ‘You can take the girl away from the beach, but you’ll never get the sand from between her toes’, ‘You can shake the sand from your shoes, but it never leaves your soul’, ‘Sandy Toes & Salty Kisses’.
Last fall on a trip with my best friend we were walking back to where we were staying, feet covered in sand. It had rained earlier. Several feet ahead of me my friend stomped through a big puddle leaving the sand behind. That was way more fun that rinsing them with the hose or in the tub.
Even though the first day of summer is still a few weeks away, the official start here in good old U.S.A. is this Memorial Day weekend. Which reminds me of some other sayings we should never forget: ‘A soldier doesn’t fight because he hates what’s in front of him, he fights because he loves what he left behind’, ‘To stand beside a soldier and walk through his pain will humble a civilian to no longer complain’, ‘Only two defining forces have ever offered to die for you: Jesus Christ and the American G.I. One died for your soul, the other for your freedom’.
We have much to be grateful for, and yes I do thank our brave men and women for their service and grieve along with those whose loved ones paid the ultimate price for our American freedom. The greatest freedom we have though comes from hands and feet pierced through and arms stretched wide in love on a cross – what He says is what defines our every breath: ‘Father forgive them…’, ‘I tell you the truth, today you will be with Me in paradise…’, ‘It is finished…‘ (Luke 23:34, 23:43, John 19:30 NIV)
Shug…
In case you’re not from where I’m from, ‘Shug’ is pronounced ‘Shooog’ – like sugar. In fact, it’s used in calling someone sugar in a loving way… ‘Want to go to the store with me Shug?’ ‘Come sit by me Shug.’ ‘Oh Shug, I’m so sorry.’
Not all step-mom’s are like Cinderella’s… I wasn’t around mine a lot, just a couple weeks every summer when I would go back to my hometown to spend time with Daddy. She always called me Shug and I always felt loved by her. We had great fun together – her little girl was half my age. So I was old enough to ride the roller coaster with her at the Miracle Strip, old enough to tube with her in the lake. We laughed a lot…
She took me to have pictures done one summer, I must have been eleven and I wanted to wear lipstick so bad. The shade I wore in that picture matched one of the stripes in my dress. It was a quite a sight, but she loved it and so did I. ‘Shug, you are the prettiest little girl I know’ is what she said after we got them back.
I heard my husband’s secretary a couple years ago on the phone with a client. She called her ‘Hon’ a couple of times (you know, like honey). She did that with a lot of the clients. Everyone loved her. They thought she was the kindest, most helpful person they had ever talked to.
So, I’m thinking my mother’s old saying ‘You get a lot more with honey, than you do with vinegar’ is true. Not that we should use these ‘terms of endearment’ insincerely. But how about a little grace on the phone when you have problems with the phone or cable company: ‘Well, hon, I know you aren’t at fault here, but I need your help getting this straightened out.’ Might go a lot further than most approaches we’ve used before.
We never know how our words are going to affect others. I sure hope there’s someone out there over the course of the years that can look back and say about me: ‘I remember this lady who called me ‘sweetheart’, ‘dear’, ‘cutie’…and it made me feel cared about, loved….’
My Sunshine…
Did your mother ever sing to you ‘You are my sunshine, my only sunshine, you make me happy when skies are grey…”? Mine did… I miss her…
She also came in some mornings singing ‘Wake up, wake up you sleepy head. The sun is high and you’re still in bed!’ That one usually made me grouchy, now I would love to hear her sweet voice rustling me awake…
I remember being rocked by my grandmother. The rocking chair squeaked something awful, but I became so accustom to it that if the squeaking stopped, I woke up. When my children were little I rocked them to sleep most times. I often hummed or sang while I rocked them. Problem was, I was not gifted with a melodic voice – their eyes usually got wider when I sang instead of sleepier…
I was a young mom, my oldest son and I grew up together so to speak. When he was little, as I stood swaying and patting him on the back, he patted me on the back at the same time, precious…
Moms have a way of looking in your eyes and knowing everything you don’t want them to know. My middle son was absolutely convinced that I must have eyes in the back of my head and spies all across town. Too bad we don’t realize during those trying teen years how deep a mother’s love is – the one person we could confide in, yet we think she wouldn’t understand.
Now my daughter is my sunshine, she makes me happy whether skies are blue or grey…
I think now about all the things my mother would like if she were still here – like how I keep my hair blonde (no gray for this girl), like how I write stories and encourage those who are fearful, like how I hug my daughter and kiss her neck every time I see her, like how I’ve started to notice the birds in the yard and have a love affair with growing flowers. She would smile because she would see that I was watching her all along and chose the best things so she would be proud…
Be Choosy…
Each morning we wake to…choice… Be choosy…
Choose to give the best part of your day to God – then do the dishes, take out the trash, make breakfast…
Choose to smile – instead of frown, instead of how you feel, instead of all obstacles…
Choose to give – to a co-worker who needs help, a friend who needs a listening ear, a spouse who needs reassurance…
Choose to love – despite the differences, the defects, the annoyances…
I went out to cut a rose I had been watching. It had the longest stem yet of any of my roses, and the sturdiest. The bud, while still surrounded by the sepals looked huge. When I went out to see if it had bloomed, something had gone wrong… The rose was small, the tips of each petal deformed and brown… I had to choose: cut it and throw it away or slip it into the long green vase and see what it would become…
The world is faced with such choices daily: the unexpected pregnancy, choose; the genetic abnormality during pregnancy, choose; the skin color of our neighbor, choose; the angry teenager, choose; the rear ending of your new car, choose; the alcohol or drugs or not, choose; harming another in the name of religion, politics, the climb up the ladder, choose; the lie or the truth, choose…
What makes our hearts sing? The young woman who gives birth, the couple who tenderly holds the Down Syndrome baby, neighbors who don’t see color, parents who love through the teenage hormones, forgiving the smashed in bumper offender, sobriety in the face of all life’s ugliness, putting others ahead of self instead of the other way around – and always the truth… Because the Truth is Christ and He is the Way and He is the Life – and choices made in Him are always the right ones…
Today, Choose Well – tomorrow isn’t here yet, yesterday is on Instagram, but today is your day to Be Choosy!
Whatever…
Over the last several years many things have happened that I’ve had no control over – so when the little annoyances of life would crop up I found myself saying ‘Whatever’ – sometimes with an exclamation point, sometimes this with a sigh…
While it was just my way of getting through the messes, my husband didn’t think my ‘whatevers’ were all that amusing…
Then I ran across the prettiest little card – with pink, flowery background and a dancing pink butterfly and across it was the word ‘Whatever’ with an exclamation point – definitely caught my eye. Picking it up I was able to read the fine print in the little gray box below my word…
“Whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable – if anything is excellent or praiseworthy – think about such things.” (Philippians 4:8 NIV italics mine)
That’s my point, I don’t want to think about, dwell on, get wrapped up in the little messes, I want to say ‘Whatever!’ and move on…
Move on to what is true – God is in control. To what is noble – those who selflessly sacrifice time, money, well-being for others. To what is pure – Jesus devotion to me to the point of giving His life. To what is lovely – sunrises, flower faces, squirrels running up the tree, creation. To what is admirable – a man devoted to his wife, a mother to her child, a friend to her best friend…
Today if the skies are clear or cloudy, the air is crisp or wet with humidity, the bank account is full or running on fumes, health of self or others is marathon worthy or in bed bewildered, there’s enough hours in the day or about six more are needed, Whatever!, this day holds…………..I choose the excellent and praiseworthy things and will think about such things…
Mailbox…
Who doesn’t like walking down to the mailbox? Maybe yours is by your door and you don’t have to go far – or maybe yours is grouped with others and so sometimes its a meeting place…
I think the postal carrier smiles whenever she/he comes across an out of the ordinary, ‘look at me’, load me up mailbox…there are some creative boxes out there!
The sad thing is the art of letter writing or sending a note is becoming a thing of the past… My mother made me send a thank you note for everything someone did for me or gave to me. I, in turn, made my children do the same…
If someone has a birthday, an anniversary, graduates, buys a home, is sick, there’s a card for every occasion – and I don’t know for sure but I bet not many of those make it in the mail anymore. In some respects at forty-nine cents for postage I can understand. But getting a card in the mail is the b-e-s-t…just a simple ‘thank you’ or ‘I’m praying for you’ – brightens anyone’s day…
Now I can’t put down email and texts, I do plenty of that myself, but seriously – you can’t hold a text, sit it on your desk or counter, smile over it more than once…
I have a friend I haven’t seen in 20 years and she still writes me about a twice a year…I l-o-v-e getting her letters.
My poor hubby had to learn over many years that though I think flowers are nice and a gift is sweet, what really makes my heart beat is a note or card with words of love written in it from him.
I can tell a friend that I’m thinking of her, praying for her – but I can show her and give her something to look at for a little while if I write some thoughtful words and include a verse.
So go to the dollar store, load up on some note cards, some special occasion cards, some pretty paper – and even if its just a couple of lines, tell someone you’re thinking of them…
Oh, and maybe you could jazz-up your mailbox a little and give your neighbors and your postal carrier a smile…
Squishing Worms…
In the garden department I spotted an ‘all in one’ plant, a combination of several small flowering beauties that grow well together. The dangler on the collection said ‘it’s small now, but put in a large container and watch fill it out and give beauty for months to come’. What a great idea, I only have to make room for this amazing combo and it will do the rest!
Sure enough, it did – spreading out, overflowing, and cascading down the sides of the planter. Wow, container heaven! Then one day I went out to find half eaten flowers, leaves with holes – each passing day it got worse. Time to investigate – slipping on some gloves I began to pull individual stems away from each other – yuck – juicy worms…
Feasting at the expense of my ‘beauty for months to come’. I reacted the way any loving gardener would: I plucked one off, threw it on the ground – and without the least hesitation, squished it. After doing that another six times, I isolated the plant before the hungry critters got the idea to try the smorgasbord of other containers nearby…
Early mornings and evenings (when I remember, out of sight out of mind you know) will find me plucking worms. I truly don’t understand why God didn’t make worms to only enjoy weeds instead of just the good stuff…
This isn’t my first encounter with worms, I tried zucchini in the garden once. Everybody can grow zucchini I was told. No sooner would mine get about a 1/2 inch around and about 2 inches long when I would discover a worm had eaten right up the middle of the little zucchini! Tomatoes, have you seen the worms that tomatoes get? They are disgusting to squish, but what’s a girl to do?
I guess, in the end, worms are a lot like us. God could have made it so we only liked broccoli and spinach and not the good stuff like ice cream and bread loaded with butter… Hmmm, glad I’m at the top of the food chain, don’t want to get squished over my raid on chocolate chip cookies…
If you stopped by because you read my devotion over at Encouragement Cafe, WELCOME! So glad you are here!
Resurrection…
Our good friend and pastor in California recalled the following story when his oldest daughter was six… His wife couldn’t pick her up from school and had asked Larry to get her. Realizing he was running late he got over to the school as fast as he could. The younger children wait behind a fenced area by their classrooms and as Larry got out of the car it was easy to tell no one was left. As he walked through the gate he spotted Kelsey sitting crosslegged by her classroom door. He thought to himself ‘She’ll never forgive me, I won’t get to walk her down the aisle, I’m a terrible dad’. As he got closer he could hear Kelsey singing. She jumped up when she saw her daddy, smiling and saying “Hi, daddy!”. Larry said “Oh, Kelsey, honey, I’m so sorry I’m late, please forgive me, were you scared?” Kelsey said “No daddy, I wasn’t scared I KNEW you would come for me.”
As God’s children we can have the same childlike faith, daily saying: “I KNOW He will come back for me’…
Max Lucado said in his book The Final Week of Jesus – “The story of the gospel: Jesus piercing His hands in order to prick our hearts.”
What a great word picture for us to ponder today, Good Friday. Sometimes I wonder how today got the name ‘Good’ when it seems that what happened about 2000 years ago was so horrible. But then I remember: what He did was definitely good for me and for you…and He did promise to come back for us.
When Easter is no longer just eggs and baskets, dresses and dinners – it becomes thankfulness and gratefulness…
These are lovely: grandmas in hats and little boys in bow ties – church and worship songs – jelly beans and chocolate – tables set and savory dishes passed around. But this is a remembrance – not just a ritual celebration. Remember Who it is about and what He did for us.
A rugged cross with nails – a crown of thorns – a bloodied man – a final breath… a reminder of a great love and the hope of eternity and all it promises…
Wishing you a thank-full, grace-filled, blessed Easter celebration – may the pierced hands always prick our hearts…
If you stopped by because you read my devotion today over at Encouragement Cafe, WELCOME! So glad you are here! Please stop by on Fridays as well, Paris Renae is new each Friday!
Aprons…
Aprons are making a comeback, at least I think they are. I see them in gift stores, home stores, clothing stores, everywhere…
My grandmother, better known as Nanny, always had an apron on – but she always had a dress on too. While there are lots of things about the ‘old days’ worth missing, I for one am glad that we don’t have to wear dresses all the time.
Just a couple of years ago my friend related the story of how she was baking cookies with her granddaughter and she didn’t want her to get stuff all over her cute outfit so she tried to put an apron on her. She wouldn’t have anything to do with it, especially since her grammy wasn’t wearing one. When I asked her why she wasn’t wearing one, she told me she only had one – the one she was trying to put on her granddaughter.
I was astounded, who only has one apron? That may be a silly question these days. Maybe most people don’t have any. But between ones that have been passed down, one that my daughter made for me, and one my daughter-in-love gave to me, I have several. You can guess what I’ve been sending as gifts to my best friend since then…
I recently read the story of a woman back in the 1800s whose husband was gone a lot looking for work to feed his family. This left her home to mother their 10 (yes ten) children and to take care of their home. It was said of her that when she needed to have quiet time with God, she would sit in a chair and pull her apron up over her head. The vivid picture left me smiling for a long time…
I’ve noticed if I work in the kitchen without an apron on, I get stuff on me – but if I put an apron on, I usually don’t even get anything on the apron. Got to be a life lesson there right? Something about being prepared…
Be sure to answer the weekly poll question on my site, I’m curious how many people have aprons…
parisrenae 