A Worthwhile Practice

 

Gratitude. 

I haven't been the best student, but 

the Lord has been teaching me about this discipline ... 

my entire life. 

* dogwood blossoms turned to berries

Living where there's a turn of the seasons provides plenty 

of opportunities to cultivate a grateful heart. 

*heavenly blue morning glories on the courtyard trellis

In seasons of grief and loss, it helps me to look 

outward and upward, instead of inward. 

I've spent a lot of time outside on my one-acre, 

deliberately searching out beauty and 

stubbornly seeking the wonders He's provided. 

*sweetgum leaves as individual works of art

Gratitude is a practice I intend to continue.

How do you cultivate a grateful heart? 

* More about living a thankful life here. 

Waiting Rooms

How do you feel about spending time in a 

waiting room?

In general, I don't do very well in a waiting room of 

any kind. As one American among many, I know I'm not alone. 

We tend to think waiting times should be minimized--

time is precious and must be well-spent, and if the 

waiting time is too long, well ... I'm going to leave. 

I barely had a minute to wait in this room, the lobby 

of my dentist's office, but I'm occupying other waiting rooms. 

Most of them don't have chairs, televisions, or snacks. 

Life has all kinds of waiting rooms, and the Lord often places me 

in one sort or another to learn, gulp, patience. 

Oh, and don't forget perseverance, trust, and faithfulness. 

Some days, I do well and am a peaceable waiting room dweller. 

Other times, I complain loudly and check in 

at the desk every five minutes. I've been known to kick a chair 

or two in these figurative waiting rooms--it's not pretty. 

Waiting is hard. 

What waiting rooms are you in right now? 

More about waiting well here. 

 

Friends Along the Way

I gawk as I drive along--do you?

Neighbors, I'm looking at your gardens, admiring, wondering, 

and considering sneaking a start from one plant or another. 

*

One of my Garden Friends Along the Way, 

I know she would be my friend if we ever met, 

has a plastic chair in her carefully kept vegetable garden. 

She moves it around to face the corn, then angles it toward the green beans.

The cheap green chair has been in the middle of the watermelon vines 

and at the end of a long row of yellow and orange marigolds. 

I love that this gardener doesn't only work in the garden, but sits in it, too.

I imagine her savoring the way her vegetables grow--

all that pushing and shoving, some leaping skyward while

others grasp for a bigger patch of earth. 

She was out there once, when I was driving home, along my everyday route. 

You know I swerved when I saw her sitting in her chair. 

But I didn't stop. 

I didn't pull into her driveway and compliment 

her thoughtful and clever use of the garden chair. I probably should have.

But I honked and waved like crazy. 

*I had this old chair in my own garden some years ago, just for some garden structure. 

It lasted one growing season and fell to bits in a wind storm.

Cuttings

I had hoped to put up a 'cuttings' photo once a week when the spring finally really came.

But the best laid plans and all that, you know - stuff!

Here's one to enjoy, even though none of these flowers are in bloom any longer.

Peonies (pie-knees not pee-on-knees) star in this show with Wine and Roses weigela and a few stems 

of the blue false indigo (baptisia) mixed with speedwell.
The combination is almost patriotic!

Oh the creamy dreaminess of a peony bloom!

***

Side Note:

My Bible reading this morning was in Mark, chapter 13. 

I think Mark might be my favorite gospel, although I hate to commit to picking one. See verse 33 through 37 for the big message which Jesus does not hesitate to repeat and emphasize:

STAY AWAKE!

(keep watch / stay alert)

I have to admit in the business of everyday summer life, I get spiritually sleepy. 

Isn't it odd that while extra BUSY I can be SLEEPY at the same time? 

Imagine a frantically animated sleepwalker and you might get pretty close.

The Mary/Martha Lesson is applicable here, I think, if I may mix Bible stories within such close quarters and not offend. Martha was busy, busy, busy doing, let's face it, necessary stuff, yet the Lord said Mary was the one who chose the "good portion". 

So I've knocked myself in the head over here. I've shaken myself back to a higher state of alertness, and I'm making more time to sit at the feet of the Lord.

Join me?

Night Moves

The sound woke us up at about 3 a.m.

I keep one window cracked open, and I was the first to hear the repetitive, sharp sound.

Only a few seconds at the window was needed to determine that the sound was coming

from the garbage cans by the carport. 

Figuring it out was pretty much a no-brainer, in view of the pork roast debacle of the day before:

there were two juicy, raw and mostly rotten slabs of pork in those garbage cans 

AND 

raccoons stalk our garbage cans.

There you have it --- a recipe for disaster.

My Brave Husband went out with his biggest flashlight and tried to scare the raccoon 

away from his feast, but how intimidating can one be in blue boxers?

Maybe if he had worn camo boxers...?

In the morning, this is what we found. 

A guilty young raccoon all alone in the can. 

No pork and no accomplices to be found, pressed flatly to the bottom

 of the can, hoping and maybe praying for invisibility.

Even after the can was kicked over, he hung around until we gave up spying on him.

A pretty bold kinda 'coon.