Tag Archives: Scripture

298. All the flowers of all the tomorrows are in the seeds of today. ~Author Unknown

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The Seed-Shop

Here in a quiet and dusty room they lie,
Faded as crumbled stone or shifting sand,
Forlorn as ashes, shriveled, scentless, dry-
Meadows and gardens running through my hand.

In this brown husk a dale of hawthorn dreams;
A cedar in this narrow cell is thrust
That will drink deeply of a century’s streams;
These lilies shall make summer on my dust.

Here in their safe and simple house of death,
Sealed in their shells, a million roses leap;
Here I can blow a garden with my breath,
And in my hand a forest lies asleep.

~Muriel Stuart, English poet

He put before them another parable: “The kingdom of heaven is like a mustard seed that someone took and sowed in his field; it is the smallest of all the seeds, but when it has grown it is the greatest of shrubs and becomes a tree, so that the birds of the air come and make nests in its branches.”  ~Matthew 13:31-32   ✝

291. The more I see you, the more I find you, the more I find you, the more I love you. ~Kari Jobe

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Come, gentle Spring!
Ethereal mildness!
Come.
~James Thomson

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Spring is coming!  Its earliest harbingers have arrived to tell me so.  And with it, as always, comes a heightened sense of awe and wonder, a sense of such that I acquired at a very early age.  Thus I look not outside Creation nor separate from it, to find God.  The words of Romans 1:20 in Scripture intimates that “the world is a place of revelation and the whole of life is sacramental.”  So it is that Creation is enough to reveal God to humanity, but it is not enough for its salvation.  For that we need Jesus, the Messiah; He is the only one who has the ability to offer us salvation.  Thankfully, with a profession of faith that He is Lord and a penitent heart, it is ours for the asking.

“Come to me, all you that are weary and are carrying heavy burdens, and I(Jesus) will give you rest.  Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me; for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.”  ~Matthew  11:28-30   ✝

268. “The true meaning of America, you ask? It’s in a Texas rodeo, in the sound of laughing children, in a …” ~Audie Murphy, one of the most decorated American combat soldiers of World War II, actor, songwriter, and horse breeder

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I wanted to be like my father,
who was a cattle man and rodeo roper.
And that was – he was my hero,
and I wanted to be more like him.
~Dave Brubeck, American jazz pianist and composer

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Shortly after the beginning of the year, a sign starts flashing “this thing is legendary,” and huge trucks loaded with equipment roll onto the grounds of Will Rogers Coliseum.  But before the livestock comes, before the vendors come, before the riders come, before the spectators come, the carnival trucks are unloaded and construction of the Stock Show midway begins. Soon afterwards the Ferris Wheel and other rides rise high above the surrounding fences, the midway opens, and the “oldest continual running livestock show and rodeo” becomes a daily part of everyday life here in Fort Worth once again.  And each year when I see the Ferris Wheel on the stock show grounds, I’m transported back to my childhood in Long Beach, California, and that stretch of beach with the amusement park about a mile down from our house.  Even though I was forbidden to go there alone, the call of the midway fun and the cotton candy was just too strong to resist.  So from time to time between the ages of 10 and 12 I’d steal away to Rainbow Pier with a few dimes in my pocket and secretly partake of the Pike’s allurements.  I must have picked my days well and not tarried any longer than I should because my disobedient treks to the Pike faded into obscurity undetected.

Our move to Texas when I was 13 not only brought an end to my life in southern California but also to my childhood.  Its halcyon days, however, continue to be my “precious, kingly possessions” and a treasure house of cherished memories.  And I hold fast still to the pleasures and memories of that portion of my life which was filled with a constancy of joy that has never since been equalled.  But then perhaps, it is not the constancy of joy that changed, just the earnestness of the seeker to look for it because according to Scripture we have a promise from God that joy comes in the morning, every morning.

He will yet fill your mouth with laughter, and your lips with shouts of joy.  ~Job 8:21  ✝

262. If God had wanted to be a big secret, He would not have created babbling brooks and whispering pines. ~Robert Brault

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You, O God, are the beginning of all that is.
From your life the fire of the rising sun streams forth.
You are the life-flow of creation’s rivers,
the sap of blood in our veins, earth’s fecundity,
the fruiting of trees, creatures’ birthing,
the conception of new thought, desire’s origin.
~J. Philip Newell

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Creation has been described as “the grand volume of God’s utterance,” and isn’t it grand to know that we are a part of that utterance.  When we seek God then we should not look “away from ourselves and away from creation, but deep within all that has life” including ourselves.  We can and should search for Him in Scripture, but God is found in more than religious moments and environments.  Simply put, He speaks to us through two books: Creation and the Bible.  Because He exists in all contexts, His light is woven throughout the whole of Creation’s fabric.  Whether recognized and acknowledged or not, nothing has life apart from God, and if we want to look for Him, we need to start in places where He yet dwells.  I start in my garden because, like all gardens, it is a microcosm of the grander macrocosm of Creation itself, and even in a small piece of Eden is the whole of the mystery of God.  In it I see the same ebbing and flowing and rhythms that I see in my life and Creation at large, and I know that I’m as connected to its Source as the infant in a mother’s womb is connected to its life-giving source.  One of my friends told me once that when she was in college she would sometimes go lie down in a wheat field and look up at the sky because she knew to go out into Creation was to find Yahweh.  She had learned as have I that wherever and whenever we look and listen, we shall find Him, and I pray this is a week where your encounters with the Holy One are many.

I have seen you in the sanctuary and beheld your power and your glory.  ~Psalm 63:2    ✝

**In the photograph is some French Lavender that I found blooming in my greenhouse today.  Even it speaks of the blue of our planet and the heavens.

234. Year’s end is neither an end or a beginning but a going on, with all the wisdom that experience can instill in us. ~Hal Borland

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Time is the coin of your life.
It is the only coin you have, and only you
can determine how it will be spent.
Be careful lest you let
other people spend it for you.
~Carl Sandburg

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Recently I heard a college student talking about her graduate studies in Glasgow, Scotland.  As I listened, I remembered how much I’d wanted to study in Paris when I was her age.  That started me thinking about the life choices I’d made and wondering how different my life might have been had I chosen differently.  After pondering the matter for a few days, I came to the conclusion that geography changes very little, if anything.  One can dance and bloom and thrive wherever they are, and joy would be as joyful, sorrow be no less sorrowful, nor would trials be any less difficult.  Scripture states that time is more richly spent in the lives of people who choose to be happy wherever they are, who choose to do good while they live, and who choose to find satisfaction in all of their toils.

An example of God’s hand of blessing in blocking some of the choices one has to make came when my daughter who had 5 collegiate scholarships from which to choose was led to pick one that actually saved her life.  For tragically, at one of the universities she turned down, the girls on the swim team for which she was being recruited were all killed in a heart-rending bus accident that year.  So as another year ends and a new one starts, I praise the Lord who knows so much better than we about where and how to spend the time coin of our lives.  By His hand of goodness and mercy I did in fact finally get to Paris this last summer along with my daughter whose life had been spared so many years ago.

My wish today is that the “going on” of which Borland speaks brings each and everyone of you immeasurable blessings and that you encounter again and again the Holy One by whose Hand they will be delivered.

Trust in Him at all times, O people, pour out your heart before Him; God is a refuge for us.  ~Psalm 62:8  ✝

204. The autumn leaves drift by my window, the autumn leaves of red and gold…and soon I’ll hear old winter’s song… ~Excerpts from a tune by Johnny Mercer

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There is music in the meadows, in the air…
Leaves are crimson, brown, and yellow…
There is rhythm in the woods,
And in the fields, nature yields…
~Excerpts from LYRIC OF AUTUMN by
William Stanley Braithwaite

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It was 1947 when Johnny Mercer borrowed lines from a French song to create the lyrics to his unforgettable melody, AUTUMN LEAVES, a song I find myself singing, at least the parts I remember, almost every year as I tear November’s page off the calendar.  Why?  I don’t know.  The words just seem appropriate when autumn’s persistent winds, wild with leaves, blow wide open the final month’s portals, and this year’s opening was no different.  November’s yet in place blustery gales did in fact sweep December onto its throne.  Once seated, the 12th month opened under bright, sunny skies, but by noon day one had become shrouded in unending shades of gray.   When night fell, there were few, if any, remaining leaves on the redbud and willow at the back of the yard.  The beneficiaries of these as well as the oak’s leaves when they fall are the big island bed and my secret garden in the north corner.  So now not only can my voice be heard singing autumn’s anthems, but wherever these tinted tidbits lie, I’ll be able to hear them crooning their embracing ballads of promise.  And theirs, songs different from the ones in springtime, pledge warmth and declare they’ll keep my plants safe during the bitter, stone-cold days of winter.  But wait, things like trees and leaves sing?  Really? As a matter of fact, according to some Scriptural references and to those of us who listen carefully, they do!

The Lord reigns…Let the heavens rejoice, let the earth be glad; let the sea resound, and all that is in it.  Let the fields be jubilant, and everything in them; let all the trees of the forest sing with joy.  ~Psalm 96:11-12  ✝

171. Nature is to be found in her entirety nowhere more than in her smallest creatures. ~Pliny the Elder (Roman Scholar)

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She sat down in a weed patch, her elbows on her knees ,
and kept her eyes on the small mysterious world of the ground.
In the shade and sun of grass blade forests,
small living things had their metropolis.
~Nancy Price, Website writer and poet

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This writer is describing a kingdom that exists in probably every square foot of ground in any garden, and it is not a singular kingdom.  In and around blossoming things there’s yet another mysterious metropolis.  In it airborne living things yearn to “possess the sweet of every flower that blooms,” and so in that above-ground realm there really is a very simple equation: if there are no flowers there are no pollinators; if there are no pollinators there are no flowers.  One simply doesn’t exist without the other, at least for very long.  The hum or buzz of the pollinating agent and the flower’s blooming go hand in hand.   Together they dance the dance of life and commit their acts of love.  And so it is that different life forms as well as scripture “remind us that there are other voices, other rhythms, other strivings, and other fulfillments…”  How I’d love to hover over the petals of a rose, peer deep into its center, and then dive in to taste its “sweets” like the wasp on this bi-colored Scentimental rose.

God’s voice thunders in marvelous ways; he does great things beyond our understanding.  ~Job 37:5   ✝

159. Our knowledge of God is not an external deposit of truth…rather, it is an experience of God that comes to us in the use of our inner senses, whether that be through the scriptures and sacraments or through Creation and one another. ~John Philip Newell

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Remember God’s bounty in the year.
String the pearls of His favor.
Hide the dark parts,
except so far as they are breaking out in light!
Give this one day to thanks, to joy, to gratitude!
~Henry Ward Beecher

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Just in case I haven’t declared lately how much I love autumn, let me say it one more time.  My, oh my, oh my, but what stunning “pearls” the Lord gives us to string together in autumn.  The colors in these roses are so absolutely scrumptious that when I came upon them in the yard a couple of days ago, I wanted to go back in the house and immediately start baking something “pumpkiny” or “lemony.”  I imagined a dessert of some kind with cinnamon and/or cloves that when finished would be slathered with butter or icing.  Then, as if she had read my thoughts, my friend Liz cooked something similar to what I imagined for our luncheon yesterday, and what a delicious pumpkin bread-pudding topped with caramel and pecans she made!  It was as delicious for the tongue as these roses were beautiful for the eyes.

Taste and see that the Lord is good; blessed is the one who takes refuge in Him.  ~Psalm 34:8

145. Autumn, the year’s last, loveliest smile. ~William Cullen Bryant

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Why is it so many of us
persist in thinking autumn is a sad season?
Nature has merely fallen asleep,
and her dreams must be beautiful
if we are to judge by her countenance.
~Samuel Taylor Coleridge

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Earth is the only planet in the universe that’s just the right distance from the sun to support life as we know it, and it is by its 23 and a half degree tilt that the seasons are created, seasons that each have their own distinct majesty, flavor, and personality.  That’s why I thought it was so fitting that at the end of a great, BBC-made Disney movie called EARTH, the narrator, speaking with an appropriate sense of wonder and awe, made the following statement, “Earth is full of harsh realities, but sometimes it’s just paradise.”  And so it is, especially in its last hurrah!  It is with a glad heart that I’m seeing the corners of fall’s mouth starting to turn up and that soon the season will spread into its grand and broad smiling face.  I personally think the reason autumn smiles is because she knows that her predecessors will come again and again to her door allowing her to have the year’s final say.

There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under heaven:

a time to be born and a time to die,
a time to plant and a time to uproot,

a time to kill and a time to heal,
a time to tear down and a time to build,

a time to weep and a time to laugh,
a time to mourn and a time to dance,

a time to scatter stones and a time to gather them,
a time to embrace and a time to refrain,

a time to search and a time to give up,
a time to keep and a time to throw away,

 a time to tear and a time to mend,
a time to be silent and a time to speak,

 a time to love and a time to hate,
a time for war and a time for peace.

 ~Ecclesiastes 3:1-8   ✝

139. The roots of all goodness lie in the soil of appreciation for goodness. ~Dalai Lama

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Every day that we wake up
is a good day.
Every breath that we take
is filled with hope for a better day.
Every word that we speak
is a chance to change what is bad into something good.
~Walter Mosley

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Scripture says that at the end of each day of Creation’s beginnings, God looked at what He made and saw that it was good.  Mankind, then, draws every breath amidst that goodness.  Yes, there are days fraught with trials and grief, but they alter not the fabric in which all life was woven.  Goodness and the miraculous are as constant as the sun, moon, and stars, and man has a chance of finding and being blessed by God’s graciousness when he lets go of his yesterdays and looks only to the day at hand.  If his cup is to be filled with the promised goodness and mercy, he must empty the chalice of his being on a daily basis.  Otherwise the bitter stings of the past will poison the mix and rob him of all that could have been.  Man’s days have a planned shape in the soil of goodness, and its bounty rises to the surface, not because of what he is or what he does, but because of who God is and what He’s already done.

God saw all that He had made, and it was very good. . .Thus the heavens and earth were completed in their vast array.  ~Genesis 1:31a, Genesis 2:1  ✝