The Jesus Tree

Good Friday seems to be anything but good. But if we get through the darkness of the Crucifixion, there is hope.

Last Monday, we moved cattle from one location to another. As Randy backed the trailer up to the barn, the pickup scraped up against a thorny tree at the old farmstead.

"Hey, look!" I told Randy. "It looks like the crown of thorns that Ben has on the altar."

"It's a Jesus tree," Randy confirmed.

Later, as I waited for the guys, I  examined those piercing thorns that would be like a weapon against flesh. And, during this Holy Week, I was once again reminded of Christ's great sacrifice for me.

Later, as I stood at the barn door waiting to close the trailer gate, I looked up and saw a cross formed by beams in the old ramshackle barn. Even on a cloudy, overcast day, the light illumined the snow-dusted cross.

When I look at the cross, I also see a mirror held up to our souls. Each of us hears the whisper of the serpent and at times succumbs. The story of the cross is our story. ... Something in us is broken. ... When I look at the cross, it reminds me of all the things inside myself that I don't like to admit are there, all the ways I've betrayed and denied Christ or hurt other people, all that is in need of redemption and grace. The cross leads me to gratitude and awe. ... I want to walk in His footsteps. I want to live as a citizen of His kingdom. I want to love as He loved." 

Rev. Adam Hamilton from "The Way: Walking in the Footsteps of Christ"

During this solemn day of Good Friday, I still look forward to the promise of Resurrection that we will celebrate on Easter Sunday. We're the blessed ones. We know the rest of the story. May it impact every facet of my life today and every day.

For God so loved the world, that He gave His only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in Him should not perish, but have everlasting life.

John 3:16

Look Up!

I started my walk with my eyes up. I was in search of Monarchs, the "Queen" of butterflies. It's time for their annual migration, a journey that takes them from northern climes to the warmth of southern California and Mexico for the winter months. The Kansas Wetlands Education Center near Great Bend hosted a Monarch Mania event the second weekend in September, and Quivira National Wildlife Refuge's comparable event was last weekend.

Just that morning, I had seen a photo of Monarchs on Quivira's Facebook page.

Photo from Quivira National Wildlife Refuge's Facebook Page - September 20, 2013

I'm just a few miles from the refuge, so I hoped I would find a similar scene nestled in the trees on the County Line.  As I gazed upwards, I glimpsed a few Monarchs, flitting in and out of the canopy of trees just down the road from our house. They would dart into my line of vision, gracefully catch the air currents and drift away from view into the maze of green leaves. Kind of like a busy toddler I know, they didn't pause for a formal portrait by an amateur photographer.

A walk awaited - whether the butterflies cooperated or not. And I was again reminded that sometimes we overlook the small gifts of everyday in our peering for the next big thing. All week, Randy had mentioned the thousands of yellow butterflies that seemed to have become "squatters" in our alfalfa fields.

My internet search to positively identify them came up empty. There are plenty of websites focused on the majestic Monarch, but I didn't find one where a little yellow butterfly was the star of the show.

But as I took a detour from the dirt road into the alfalfa field, the little yellow "flying machines" came in for landings on colorful alfalfa blossoms, drinking in their nectar.

Were they dramatic Monarchs, with their brilliant orange and black, stained-glass-like markings?
No.

Did they have a beauty all their own as the sunlight seemed to illuminate their paper-thin wings?
Most assuredly.

As I returned to the road, I saw even smaller moths, hardly bigger than the fingernail on my pinky finger. If I hadn't been looking up, I'd never have seen them.

Sometimes, I'm guilty of just plodding along, staring at my feet, lost in my own thoughts. It can happen on a morning walk. It can happen metaphorically, too, as I get lost in the minutia of a to-do list and don't pause to appreciate my everyday blessings.

Blessings don't just come on the wings of Monarchs. They can come from lowly moths and dried up corn stalks. We just have to look up.

A Time to Think

To pray is to listen, to move through my own chattering to God, to that place where I can be silent and listen to what God may have to say. –Madeleine L'Engle, author

A Time to Act

Use today as an opportunity to listen to God's voice.

A Time to Pray

God, thank You for the moments that wake me up to this perfectly beautiful world.

(Wisdom from a Guideposts daily email devotional)
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Today I'm linked to Jennifer Dukes Lee's Tell His Story.  Click on the link to read more!

If We Are the Body

Maybe, just maybe, the essence of God smells a little like the orange fragrance of Murphy Oil Soap.

In August, I was my church's lay delegate to the Unifying Conference for the Great Plains Conference of the United Methodist Church. It was the final process for joining the Kansas East, Kansas West and Nebraska conferences into one Great Plains Conference as of January 1. We slogged our way through 154 pages of a Plan of Organization. Who knew that the kind of insulation used or the number of GFI outlets available in parsonages would spark such debate? (Not me! I didn't even know what a GFI outlet was until I got there!)

But, tucked in the minutia of parliamentary procedural amendments and votes, the 1,700 conference delegates had the opportunity to Serve Salina. More than 1,000 of us accepted the challenge. Projects included yard and groundwork, minor home repairs, helping the elderly or disabled, sorting food and supplies at pantries and working with children. In all, volunteers completed 50 service projects for individuals, families and nonprofit organizations throughout Salina.

I was among those sent to the Saline County Commission on Aging, which occupies the 103-year-old former Saline County Courthouse. It has soaring ceilings and rich wood trims surrounding beveled glass windows and marble walls. The county allows the Commission on Aging to use the building for a nomimal charge, but they don't have the staff to do deep cleaning projects. They are too busy making a difference in the lives of the aging in the county through program like Meals on Wheels, the Older Kansans Employment Program or Live At Home Solutions.

So there we were - armed with rags and Windex and Murphy Oil Soap - and bolstered by a common cause. Our Serve Salina t-shirts got a little sweaty as we got on our hands and knees or climbed ladders to clean - me a lay delegate from a farm in South Central Kansas and another woman from metropolitan Lincoln. There were pastors who serve the big congregations of Wichita and some who preach at three little churches in rural Nebraska each Sunday morning. Big or small, laity or preacher - we were all trying to make a difference in some small way. 

As I started at the bottom of a wrought iron stair rail and worked up and a lady from Agra started at the top and worked down, I was struck by the symbolism. We could have sat in the air-conditioned Salina Bicentennial Center and stuck to the business of approving mission statements and vision statements. But what's the use of a mission statement without some hands and feet to put them into action? That would be about as effective as hanging a rag over a staircase and hoping it would miraculously get dusted. 

Saline County Commission on Aging and related programs, whose offices occupy the structure. - See more at: http://salina.com/search/Old-courthouse-tour-091310#sthash.T7iXqQsV.dpuf

How do we live out the mission statement of "making disciples of Jesus Christ for the transformation of the world?" Sometimes, it's overwhelming. When you're at the bottom of the hill - or the bottom of a three-level staircase - and staring upwards, it's hard to see the end goal. Likewise, in a world where people are more likely to follow a celebrity on Twitter or check their status on Facebook than they are to attend church on Sunday morning or read the Bible each day, "making disciples" is an uphill climb.

But the only way to finish is to start. You have to get into the nooks and crannies and do the work - one detail and one step at a time.

 

At our evening worship service, organizers showed a video that featured several of the volunteer projects completed during our afternoon of service. Maybe this particular "cleaning volunteer" was a little envious that some of the other volunteers got to experience smiles and laughter while playing with children at a day care center or watched as a Mother walked away from a pantry with a newly-packed box of food so she could feed her children for another week.

But, there's something to be said for dusting, too. After all, Jesus did his own version of "dusting" before He went to the Cross. Jesus was having a final meal with his disciples in the Upper Room. But no one volunteered to clean the dusty feet of the disciples.  Until Jesus…

Jesus “got up from the meal, took off his outer clothing, and wrapped a towel around his waist.  After that, he poured water into a basin and began to wash his disciples’ feet.”  (John 13:4-5)  ... Jesus said: “Now that I, your Lord and Teacher, have washed your feet, you also should wash one another’s feet.” (John 13:14)

See? Sometimes Love itself comes by washing away a little dust. It may even come when you're comparing the virtues of furniture polish brands with ladies who've come to the Senior Center for an afternoon game of pool. We may be rubbing out apathy and instead shining on compassion as effectively as that bottle of Windex and paper towel takes away grime from a streaked window.

As we ended our work at the Senior Center, a pastor asked the center's director to stand in the middle of a circle. We built our circle from the inside out, each of us grasping the shoulder of another, as we prayed for the ministry offered by the director and her staff and for the people who walk through the doors each day.

Later, I thought about all those hands and hearts joined together in work and prayer. I've always heard there's no "I" in team. It's a favorite saying of coaches. I found it somewhat ironic that I personally was part of an "i" in a banner that decorated the Bicentennial Center. The banner used the photos of every delegate and every pastor who had come together for the Unifying Conference. My face happened to fall in the "dot" of the "i" in the word, "Plains."

In this instance, I'd have to say there was an "i" in "team." And in all the other letters, too.

And, yes, there was the essence of Christ Himself in that orange-scented fragrance of cleaning supplies and in the many hands that picked them up that day ... or helped a nursing home patient clap their hands to a praise song ... or skipped down a sidewalk with a laughing child.

Christ has no body now but yours. No hands, no feet on earth but yours. Yours are the eyes through which He looks compassion on this world. Yours are the feet with which He walks to do good. Yours are the hands through which He blesses all the world. Yours are the hands, yours are the feet, yours are the eyes, you are His body. Christ has no body now on earth but yours.

Teresa of Avila

A Casting Crowns song called, "If We Are the Body," says, in part:

If we are the body
Why aren't His arms reaching?
Why aren't His hands healing?
Why aren't His words teaching?
And if we are the body
Why aren't His feet going?
Why is His love not showing them there is a way?
There is a way.



There IS a way. 

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This post is my contribution to the Lovely Branches Ministries website for the month with the theme, "Serving God, Serving Others." Check out what my friends, Suzanne, and Keva, had to share at Lovely Branches. And, if you're close to Stafford, come by the Taste & See Coffeehouse, another of the LBMinistries.

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This week, I'm linked to MIchelle's Hear It On Sunday, Use It On Monday and Jennifer's Tell His Story. Check out what other bloggers of faith have to say.

In the Weeds

Sunflowers are the extroverts. They wave wildly and shout "Hello!" with their vibrant yellow arms and winking brown eyes. Even when we race by at 55 mph, they stand tall and shout, "Hey, look at me!"

 

But, the introverts among us have beauty, too. We aren't going to see them at a glance or hear their whisper unless we silence the rest of life's noise and busyness.

The blue in this at-a-glance scene was the cerulean sky, stretching from horizon to horizon, interrupted only by streaks of white clouds. At 55 mph, that's all I see. But, that blue sky was mimicked by a subtle blanket of blue in the ditch. It wasn't until I walked past them that I discovered the treasure. They aren't waving enthusiastically in the Kansas wind like their yellow, extroverted cousins. Instead, they hide their delicate beauty, tucked in the weeds.

I think there's a lesson there: Sometimes there is beauty in the weeds and the clutter of our lives.

Wishing for all of us a week where we can truly see the gifts right in front of us - large and small. And may they not have to shout to get our attention.

When the World Makes No Sense ...

I went to school last Friday night for a middle school Christmas concert. It's the same school where Jill marched into the kindergarten classroom with a silly book bag so many years ago without a glance over her shoulder ...

... and where Brent proudly served a Mother's Day tea with his kindergarten classmates.

On Friday night, our school's commons area was packed with parents, grandparents and friends who came to watch the concert. It was an unusual Friday night. During most Friday nights this time of year, it's the gym that's packed with cheers as high school basketball players run up and down the court. The referee's whistle blows and the ball pounds the wooden floor, and cheerleaders lead the chant for "Defense!"

But, for some reason, there was no ballgame scheduled. Instead, with a December school calendar packed to the brim, it allowed the music department a chance to squeeze in a concert.

As I walked into the school Friday night, I saw the brightly-painted Christmas backdrop and the glittered snowflakes, and I thought, "This is what a school is supposed to be about."

This is what school is supposed to be: It's about three girls in reindeer antlers. It's about the three boys in full elf regalia who couldn't make it through their trio without cracking up. It's about a diminutive, 80-pound-soaking-wet Santa who didn't need the old guy's heft to flawlessly deliver the rhymed patter during the Cool Yule program.It was about those kids who weren't the stars of the show, but who just stood on the three-tiered risers and sang and danced along.

That's what a school is supposed to be on a Friday night.

It's not supposed to be a place for a candlelight vigil, mourning the deaths of 20 innocent children and six brave educators.

It's not supposed to be that way.
It makes no sense.
It will never make sense.

Those little children likely wouldn't have sung "Away in a Manger" at their school's Christmas concert. But I'm guessing that some of them would have dressed in cardboard angel's wings or pulled on their Dad's bathrobe and become the vigilant shepherds surrounding a short, blue-robed Mary and staff-bearing Joseph as they gazed down at a baby doll Jesus in a crude manger at their church's Christmas pageants this weekend.

These words come to mind as I try to wrap my head around this tragedy:

Be near me, Lord Jesus,

I ask Thee to stay

Close by me forever,

And love me, I pray.

Bless all the dear children

In Thy tender care,

And fit us for heaven

To live with Thee there.

On Sunday at our church, two grade-school-aged boys, their parents and their cousin lit the third Advent candle. Here are some of the words they spoke:

Rejoice in the Lord always. And again I will say, rejoice.

Let your gentleness be known to everyone. The Lord is near. Do not worry about anything, but in everything, by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving, let your requests be made known to God. And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus. 

Philippians 4: 4-7

 We light a candle to help us remember that Jesus is near. The peace of God will keep us in Christ Jesus.

Prayers for Sandy Hook Elementary School ...
Prayers for Newtown, Conn. ...
Prayers for the heroes, some of whom lost their earthly lives ...
Prayers for the grieving families ...
Prayers for the survivors whose lives will never be the same ...
Prayers for the first responders and all the helpers ...
Prayers for our country ...
Prayers for the world in which Kinley is growing up ...
Prayers for us all ...

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Today, I am linked to Michelle DeRusha's Hear It on Sunday, Use It on Monday feature. You will be blessed to visit there and read thoughts from bloggers of faith from across the U.S. 

Down and Dirty

A stained glass window at Lindsborg's Messiah Evangelical Lutheran Church

Light filters through the jewel-toned glass, casting colorful shadows on the walls, floors and pew cushions. Light makes the scene come to life, as the angel hovers over the shepherds and tells them the Good News: 

⁸ Now there were in the same country shepherds living out in the fields, keeping watch over their flock by night. ⁹ And behold, an angel of the Lord stood before them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were greatly afraid. ¹⁰ Then the angel said to them, “Do not be afraid, for behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy which will be to all people. ¹¹ For there is born to you this day in the city of David a Savior, who is Christ the Lord. ¹² And this will be the sign to you: You will find a Babe wrapped in swaddling cloths, lying in a manger.” ¹³ And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host praising God and saying: ¹⁴ “Glory to God in the highest, And on earth peace, goodwill toward men!”

 Luke 2: 8-14

I have heard those words every Christmas season for my entire life. I've been in many churches where the scene with angels and shepherds is beautifully depicted in stained glass. Each year, we add the delicate porcelain shepherds to the Nativity set, along with the pristine cows, sheep and donkey.

But this year, I've thought about the story in a slightly different way. Last month, Lovely Branches Ministries completed a Bible study called A Savior Is Born, which used video messages from Pete Briscoe.

In Bible times, he reminds us, the shepherds weren't society's elite. In today's society, Briscoe says, the shepherds would have more in common with homeless people than with CEOs. God chose shepherds - not the chief priests or elders - to hear the Good News first. 

The shepherds were dirty and smelly. It was the nature of their job. They didn't get to go home for a hot shower and meal every night. They were out among their sheep, keeping them safe from predators and rounding up ones who strayed away from the group. They sweated and got dirty as they walked miles and miles to find the best places for fresh water and green pastures for their sheep.

Just as the Bible study ended, my husband told me that a neighbor had baby lambs at his farm. So we drove over to look for a look and found our neighbor in the corral, wearing overalls and working the baby lambs. His boots were caked with manure. His hands were dirty, and his brow was sweaty on the unseasonably warm fall day.  And, I again thought about the shepherds.

As I stood on the outside of the fence and looked at the babies and the ewes, it was easy for me to think that this modern-day shepherd was rewarded with the cuteness quotient of his job. Of course, unlike the shepherds of ancient days, he is able to go into his house at the end of the day and clean up with a hot shower. But, while he was outside caring for those baby lambs and their mothers, it was more manure and straw than stained glass and light. 

In the evenings, he rounds up the littlest lambs and their mothers and puts them in the barn to protect them from the coyotes that would like a midnight snack. He doesn't have to lay at the gate to the pasture to protect his flock, like the shepherds of Bible times. But he does have to do his best to keep his flock safe. It means being home and being available at dusk to shepherd those most vulnerable creatures to the safety of the barn.

One of my favorite Christmas solos is called Ordinary Baby. Just some of the words are:

He was just an ordinary baby
That's the way He planned it, maybe.
Anything but common would have kept Him apart
From the children that He came to rescue
Limited to some elite few
When He was the only Child who asked to be born

And He came to us with arms wide open
Knowing how we're hurt and broken
Choosing to partake of all our joy and pain

He was just an ordinary baby
That's the way He planned it, maybe.
So that we could come to Him and not be afraid ...

He came to those dirty, smelly shepherds so long ago. He comes to imperfect and very human me. And even though my life and your life may not always be bright and shiny like stained glass, He promises to be our Good Shepherd, too. (John 10: 1-18)

Salem United Methodist Church, Newton, KS

May the true message of Christmas shine through all the busyness and the to-do lists, and may you find the Good Shepherd at the very center of your heart this holiday season. Merry Christmas from our Kansas farm to you!

Messiah Evangelical Lutheran Church, Lindsborg

Here's one rendition of Ordinary Baby.

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Lovely Branches Ministries has a new website. Be sure and check it out! 

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Today, I'm linked to Jennifer's Getting Down with Jesus and her feature, God Bumps and God-Incidences.  I know you'll relate to her story about longing to be Mary in the church Christmas pageant!

Stone by Stone

I regularly travel down the Zenith Road. I'm usually flying down it in my car in my quest to make it from my house to some event in Stafford on time. Let's face it: When I'm hurrying to get from Point A to Point B, I don't always pay attention. The scenery flies by my window, but it doesn't make much of an impression.

But, once in awhile, my pace is a little more sedate. Maybe I'm driving a grain truck to the Kanza Co-op's Zenith branch. It could be another trip to get fertilizer and haul it back to the field for Randy. On those days when I'm forced to slow down, I see more. If the windows are down in the truck or pickup, I hear the birds. I feel the breeze blowing my hair. I smell freshly cut hay. I truly see - with all my senses.

On one of those days, the big stone barn caught my attention. Now, I go by that barn several times a week. Much of the time, it doesn't even register. But as I thought about Lovely Branches Ministries' September theme, Foundations, the stone barn again came to mind.

I don't know exactly when the barn was built. But the house at the same farmstead was constructed in 1908 - more than 100 years ago. And while the barn isn't in pristine condition, it isn't falling to pieces like many of the wooden barns that dot the Kansas countryside.

Here's a wooden barn that's falling down . But can you find the two crosses? Pretty cool, too!

We can only imagine the work that went into building that stone barn. I'm sure it was backbreaking to lift each stone into place and meticulously cement them together. A firm foundation was essential - from the ground up and as each and every layer of stone was added.

What a metaphor for our faith! Where is our foundation? Is it built on solid ground? Is it carefully stacked so that it can withstand the storms of life that inevitably come our way?

I Peter 2: 4-5 says:  

The Living Stone and a Chosen People
⁴ As you come to him, the living Stone —rejected by humans but chosen by God and precious to him— ⁵ you also, like living stones, are being built into a spiritual house to be a holy priesthood, offering spiritual sacrifices acceptable to God through Jesus Christ. (NIV)

I want my life to be built on the solid foundation of Jesus Christ. Just like those long-ago workers worked tirelessly to place stone after stone, I need to build my house on the Solid Rock, not on shifting sand, like it says in that long ago Sunday School song, "The Wise Man and the Foolish Man" based on Luke 6: 48-49.

And I want Christ's light - the Light of the World - to shine through me - just as surely as a Kansas sunset is reflected in the windows of a sturdy old barn.

Check out what my friend, Suzanne, had to say about Foundations in her September blog at Heart and Home Matters. And, while you're there, visit Keva's blog, Hope in Jesus. She writes about comparing ourselves to others. (I know I can relate!) I'm currently reading the book that Edna talks about in Rooted and Grounded, Jennie Allen's Anything. Theresa has a simple, but sometimes difficult, message to Love One Another. And Dianne talks about finding Christ in the eye of the storm. Hope you'll take time to check them all out!

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I'm also linked today to Jennifer's Getting Down with Jesus and her weekly God-Bumps and God-Incidences. 

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Like the Redwoods

Muir Woods near San Francisco, California

I could probably learn a thing or two from a redwood tree.

Most trees have a root system that grows deep and long into the earth to anchor the tree and feed it. That's not how redwoods grow. Instead, they integrate their roots with other redwoods close to the top of the earth. This integration, or intertwining, of roots helps all the redwood trees stay together and live a long and healthy life.

How would our lives change if we became "community" like a redwood forest? Like the redwoods, when the winds blow and the storm rage, we can "hang on" to one another if we are involved in community. In order to survive the storms of life, we need a root system anchored by our faith in God and supported by a community of others.

Come on over to my monthly blog post at Lovely Branches Ministries, Food for Thought.  And while you're there, see what Theresa has to say at Young Hearts. (Her mission is to write for teens, but just as often, I think she's writing for me.) And you'll also want to read Suzanne's take on community in her blog this month at Heart and Home Matters.

C'mon! We'll make it worth the trip to visit!

Photos taken in 2007 on a trip for our 26th wedding anniversary.

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Today, I'm linked to Iowa farm wife and blogger of faith Jennifer Dukes Lee's Getting Down With Jesus and her Wednesday link-up, God-Bumps and God Incidences. Her post today really hit home with me: Yoda, Jillian Michaels, Women of Faith. I think it will with you, too.

New Every Morning

July 16, 2012

I started the coffee and glimpsed the sky through the northeast window. We are cocooned among trees at our house, so I can't see a panoramic view from my kitchen window - or any other window in the house. But the paintbrush colors streaking above the treetops were enough to entice me away from the welcoming smell of freshly-brewed coffee. I grabbed my camera and jumped in the car to watch another morning officially arrive. 

The old cottonwood tree at the corner south drew my attention. Its boughs watch yet another sunrise. How long has it stood like a sentinel as night again turns to day? It likely came with the homesteaders who brought trees to the area. Maybe it started as a sapling and now stands sturdy and strong. It has been battered by life - by storms, by drought, by wind, by insects. Yet it stands.

Today, the sunrise is obscured with clouds, though it doesn't seem to offer promise of much-needed rain. Each day is different. Each sunrise, each morning, has a fingerpint all its own.

Perspective is a fluid thing, isn't it? Today, there is light, but not the kaleidoscope of color.  Even a drama-filled sky is different, depending upon which direction you look. Look to the east, and there is bold color - hues covering the gamut of a new 64-Crayon box of color. 

But look to the north, and the scene shifts as the sun's rays turn the clouds to a pastel palette.

Turning to the west, it looks different still. And isn't there a lesson there? Our perspective may change when we look at a problem or a situation in a new way, with new direction. That's my prayer today - for you and for me.

²² Because of the Lord’s great love we are not consumed,
    for his compassions never fail.
²³ They are new every morning;
    great is your faithfulness.
²⁴ I say to myself, “The Lord is my portion;
    therefore I will wait for him.”

²⁵ The Lord is good to those whose hope is in him,
    to the one who seeks him. 

Lamentations 3: 22-25, NIV

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Today, I am linked to Michelle's Graceful: Faith in the Everyday's Hear It On Sunday, Use It On Monday. Head on over and check out what other bloggers are talking about today!

 

In the Weeds

We're in the second year of a drought. The crops that are supposed to grow are struggling to survive as the sun bakes the earth in 100-degree-plus heat yet another day.

But as I walk along our country roads and look out at the fields and ditches, I notice that the weeds seem to have no trouble. Why do the weeds flourish when all around us the "good stuff" is dying?

I tromp out across the fields to take a picture and the dust crunches beneath my tennis shoes. It's dry and barren. But those silly weeds persist.

And I think how it's really an analogy for life. I have the best of intentions. I plan to pull the weeds in my life. I vow that I'll do better with my weight. I insist that I'll give up worry and anxiety. I declare that I'll clean out the basement. I promise myself that I'll call that friend and meet for lunch instead of just commenting on Facebook. I swear I'll send that card or visit that friend in hospice.

But then I don't get it all done. The weeds of worry and neglect threaten to sap the Living Water right out of my life.

And the Lord shall guide you continually and satisfy you in drought and in dry places and make strong your bones. And you shall be like a watered garden and like a spring of water whose waters fail not.

Isaiah 58:11 (Amplified Bible)

That's a good thing to remember this Monday, I think. I believe it's time for a little weeding, Lord. I can't do it without You. (And, by the way, these fields are again getting worked this week to knock down the weeds. So what am I waiting for in my weeding journey?)

Today, I'm linked to Michelle's Hear It On Sunday, Use It on Monday at her blog, Graceful: Faith in the Everyday. Head on over and check out what other bloggers are sharing this Monday!

Refined

Three months ago, the landscape was barren. Fire had swallowed up dry prairie grasses like a voracious high school football team at an all-you-can-eat buffet.

But some 90 days later, the green grasses are dotted with prairie flowers in yellows and blues amid shoots of green.

What looked dead has new life. 

Today, please join me for the rest of the story over at Lovely Branches Ministries at my Food for Thought blog. While you're there, check out the blog posts by my other "buds" at Lovely Branches. There are a couple of recipe links over there, too.

Happy Monday!

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And, today I am also linked to Michelle's Graceful: Faith in the Everyday and her Hear It on Sunday, Use It on Monday link. Check out what other bloggers had to say, too!