Thriving...in Spite of It

I have a number of flowering vines, deliberately planted, and innumerable wild ones populating the backyard and prayer trail beyond it. I am fascinated by their very determined twining and stretching, in spite of barriers, dry places, and competition for soil… But there are two such vines that struck me this morning because of the disparity in their growth.  One—a climbing hydrangea—has yet to live up to its name. It’s not the vine’s fault. I had just assumed it would climb up the wall, so I’ve given it nothing to cling to. One year later, it’s still more like a meager little bush, evidently stunted in its growth for lack of a trellis.  The other one, on the other hand—a Mandevilla—has twined itself tightly onto the trellis I gave it, intricately and inseparably weaving through its sturdy iron structure over and over, back and forth. If ever there was an image of a living thing clinging to something, this is it.  As we live and grow, we need something strong, steady, and ...

Standing on a shore and watching the waves rhythmically rolling in, I would say my fascination is as perpetual and continuous as the never ending ripple or crash they deliver to the shoreline. Whether it’s Galveston or Myrtle Beach, San Diego or even Lake Hamilton, I’m completely mesmerized.  I watch and I wonder. I wonder about the God who carved out the shores made me and knows me. And just as He told the waters “go here, and no further,” He has set boundaries and protection around me, carving out a path for my very own unique purpose.  I wonder about the God who sets all these waves and tides in perpetual but perfect motion with the laws of nature, rising and ebbing in perfect timing with the moon’s mysterious pull—how can He have the time or concern to orchestrate the things in my life, as well? After all, it’s “just me.” But it’s “just me” that He has in his hand. His right hand — the hand of authority, as when a king raises his scepter in his right hand and mighty men bo...

If you've ever visited my home, driving up, you'll see piles of lush green foliage with splashes of color huddled in their respective flower beds on both sides of the front door. Lovely from the curb, but when you step closer, you'll easily see the disarray....much like a Renoir ... Aren't we all, really? We hope things look perfect from the outside, and do everything in our power with concealer, color, and shape-wear to make us look that way, but without God's mercy and grace, we could never have any hope of being what we intend to be. I'm picking on my hodgepodge garden for a reason.  It brings to mind three specific situations in our lives---conditions, really---that are calling for our attention...like that 6:00 AM songbird outside the window on Saturday morning. We can roll over, put a pillow over our head, and shut it out, or we can acknowledge the miraculous truth and beauty wrapped up in its notes... 1) What did you plant? Springing up between t...