Thinking on these things . . .

This year the procrastinator in me did not win because I’ve been given the gift of a second chance in the form of a 70-degree day in November to get my bulbs in the ground so that this spring there will be flowers. I'm planting hope. Working now for future results. Burying ugly lumps of dried up flaky-skinned brown bulbs in expectation of colorful daffodils and tulips five months from now. You, who are in ministry, you too are weekly consistently planting hope as you present God's Word in expectation that it will take root and blossom in lives. You, who are parents, are planting hope that the things you've said a million times to your children will become the principles that guide them in their adult lives. You, who are married, are planting hope as you sacrificially give your time, love, and attention to your spouse that when you reach your fiftieth anniversary it is because you still love each other and not that you just never got divorced. You, who are a friend, are pla...

It's that time of year again. Most trees are no longer green instead sporting richly colored coats of yellow, orange and red which brings up the perennial question, "Why do leaves change color?" There are massive scientific answers but very simply it's because Autumn is a very revealing time... All spring and summer photosynthesis is going on in the leaves. Chlorophyll is produced causing the leaves to be green and the leaves are giving off oxygen. This is their season and they are contributing to the good of the world around them. Then the nights get cool and the weather drier and suddenly what has worked for months works no longer. The flow of nutrients from the tree is cut off and the chlorophyll disappears and the there is no more green color. What is revealed are the colors they were underneath all along, behind the mask of green and/or their colors also reveal what has been stored up or trapped in the leaves when the supply of nutrients ceased. Trapped sugars pr...

Planting Seeds I'm planting seeds today - basil to be exact. I bought basil this winter and couldn't believe how much it cost me. So now I'm planting seeds. They're so small though; it's hard to remember what they'll become in three months. There are other seeds I'm planting:tucking my children in at night emails, chats, and phone calls times for coffee smiles hugs listening purposefully I don't know, exactly, what these will blossom into but I can suspect the high price I could pay later if I don't invest now - children who are not confident in a parent's love, friends with whom I'm no longer connected, loneliness as love needs to be given to be received, and poor judgment as I have not learned from the experience of others. I know that if I eat a 1/4 cup of blueberries a day it lowers my chance of something by a significant percentage, if I exercise regularly I may not pay the price of an infirmed body as I age - seeds I'm sowing; tiny,...

I cleared my garden plot yesterday of all the leaves from the fall that had mounded on top of it through the winter. It seemed like an appropriate day to do so, it being Easter Sunday. As I pulled the leaves away I discovered that there were many green shoots that had been growing, unseen, beneath the soggy, decomposing leaves. Hope. Hope in spite of dismal conditions, and oppressive circumstances. Hope surrounded by mud. Someday those shoots may develop into beautiful flowers that will only appreciate the exquisiteness of a cut crystal vase. They may bring joy to a friend by means of a bouquet. They may bring a smile to the face of one walking past the house. Now, it's not much, but I guess that is the nature of hope - that in time what is wished for will bloom and do so beautifully - even if it is currently just a small desire in a bed of mud.

“Fall on your knees…. Oh hear the angel voices….” Are you kidding? The only falling I’m going to do is on all the ice out here in the mall parking lot. This place is a madhouse. Why aren’t all these people ready for Christmas already? How in the world will I get in and out of this place in an hour? “Fall on your knees…. Oh hear the angel voices….” That’s a great idea for someone else, but I am far too busy to be stopping for angel voices. Have you seen the “to do” lists I still have? “Fall on your knees…. Oh hear the angel voices….” I am far too important to be falling on my knees. Don’t you know that without me Christmas wouldn’t happen in my household? There’d be no tree, no gifts, no cards, no fresh-baked cookies… (well, there probably won’t be any fresh-baked cookies anyway, I’m so far behind). “Fall on your knees…. Oh hear the angel voices….” Gifts bought and wrapped – check. Food prepared – check. Tree trimmed – check. Stockings hung by the chimney with care – check, check, check...

I live in Chicago. I'm dashing out to the car, already late, and discover that Jack Frost has been here, and apparently with ten of his buddies for no delicate design swirls on my windows, but ice that seems to be a solid sheet. Why do I never remember to leave enough time in my schedule in this the onset of winter for scraping the car windows? So I start the car and start looking for the ice scraper. Along the door - no. Under the front seat - no. In the back seat - no. In the trunk - no. Aargh ! Last year I had three scrapers in my car and now I can't find a single one. Back into the house I go, down to the basement, here, there and everywhere - not an ice scraper to be seen. I don't even want to look at my watch and see how late I am now. Desperate, I resort to the only tool I have...from my wallet I pull out a store rewards card and away we go - the funny thing is that the card actually works, not because it's a wonderful ice scraper but because the ice has softened...

I am a simple minded person. I am visual. I am forgetful. I've just gotten a beautiful hanging plant. I carefully brought it home and placed it on the hook and it looked wonderful! The next morning it was all withered and curling up against itself. So I watered it really well and it perked right up and again looked great. This morning it's all curled up and withered looking. Hmmm . What a great plant! Here I thought I was getting something to brighten up my yard and what I've actually gotten is my own botanical reminder. I am just like my plant in that I need to be watered daily. It seems no matter how great the day before has been, how abundantly I've been satisfied and filled that the next morning I'm dry and thirsty, and when the sun is beating down on me, I need even more water. I easily relate to the psalmist when he said "My soul thirsts for you; my whole body longs for you in this parched and weary land where there is no water" (Psalms 63:1). And th...

It is a bright, beautiful, clear, sunny morning. Was it a morning like this when You awoke, Jesus? Did You sleep well last night knowing it would be Your last in a mortal body, knowing there would be no sleep for You tonight, or were You up into the wee hours of the morning in one last earnest conversation with those You loved—one for only their ears and not the record of Scripture, as You sought to fortify them for what was to come? Did You stretch and flex Your hands as You greeted the dawn and perhaps, as the beams of sunlight fell on Your tough, callused palm, did You contemplate its surface, still unmarred by a piercing wound? It is amazing, Lord, how You suffered for me at Calvary, but Your love was also shown by how You walked to Your cross, with a steady, unswerving step. You alone knew that by the moon’s rising You would be abandoned by those who are now waking up around You. You knew that the usual early morning greetings and frivolity of a group that had spent many a night a...

Psalms 57:2 I cry out to God Most High to God who will fulfill His purpose for me . Psalms 57:7 My heart is confident in you O God, no wonder I can sing your praises Psalms 33:4 For the word of the Lord holds true and everything He does is worthy of our trust Psalms 33:11 But the Lord's plans stand firm forever; His intentions can never be shaken. The winter started off brutal and then in mid-January it was suddenly warm and the bulbs, beguiled by this surprise, started coming up. "No! Don't! Not yet..." I shouted to them through the tightly latched window. They didn't listen. And then, as winter does, it came back and it was sub-zero for weeks and there was snow and it looked so hopeless. There'd be no flowers this spring. But there are. There shouldn't be based on what happened, but the flowers are here and beautiful. The promise of Spring robed in white and yellow. The Psalms send the same message as the daffodils. No matter what I see or think, no m...

I am getting spring fever just as surely as I am sitting in a resin chair by my garden on a 68-degree March day in Chicago. Around me the green stalks are swollen, pregnant with buds just waiting for a few more days of warmth and sun until they will reveal their cheerful yellow faces. Two and a half crocuses remain after their premature entrance last week. A two-inch overnight snow was their demise, and even though it was gone as quickly as it had accumulated, the new growth was lost. Their brief sojourn, though, clearly sent the message: “Winter is passing and spring is coming. Soon all things will be new and the hidden underground growth through the dark winter days will be evident. The optimism of new life will defeat the despair of winter.” My shoes are sitting next to me and I feel the matted greening grass under my happily unshod feet. Spring is coming! Spring is coming! The winter has been cold and dark with biting winds, and the ground frozen and impenetrable. I have hudd...

It’s winter in Chicago, which doesn’t have the same connotations as, let’s say, winter in Yellowstone - a pristine snowy whiteness covering everything…no, it’s winter in Chicago which doesn't mean that things aren't covered, they are; the cars, the roads , the sidewalks and the signs, but they're not covered in snow, they're covered in a layer of salt. Every car is the same grayish color as the car next to it with slight undertones of the color the car actually is, peeping through the salt. For whatever reason, there is never windshield wiper fluid in the cars that I drive. I get this thin film of kicked up salt and gunk that dries on there and when the sun shines it’s even harder to see where you are going. So, there are those times, that I finally stop at a gas station and clean off my windshield and I am always amazed at how bad it was once it’s clean. Before it was bothersome but it wasn’t that bad, until I get it back to the way it’s supposed to be and then I reali...