Tuesday, June 25, 2013

consider the lilies...

early this morning
early this morning
Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moths and vermin destroy, and where thieves break in and steal. But store up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where moths and vermin do not destroy, and where thieves do not break in and steal. For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also. (NIV)
Your eyes are windows into your body. If you open your eyes wide in wonder and belief, your body fills up with light. If you live squinty-eyed in greed and distrust, your body is a dank cellar. If you pull the blinds on your windows, what a dark life you will have! (The Message) – Matthew 6:19-23
CHILDREN & FLOWERS: What do children and flowers have in common? I’m not exactly sure, at this precise moment, but that’s the phrase that has come to mind as I sit down to write today’s morning post.
DSC_0024I just came inside from shooting a few photographs of this morning’s crop of rain lilies. I saved the images on my hard drive, then checked out the latest pictures of our grandchildren on Naomi’s facebook page. That’s when the question came to mind: “What do children and flowers have in common?”
There’s a freshness and a “new every morning” quality to flowers – and especially the rain lilies – that always speaks directly into my soul. Yesterday, most of them were nothing but stems. Then, in the evening, we had a nice gentle rain. So this morning, there they are, all perky and all “so pleased to see you,” and just bursting with praise.
proud daddy with his babies
proud daddy with his babies
REBEKAH MAE: Today, Rebekah Mae is exactly one week old. She passed yesterday’s check-up with flying colors. “She’s perfect,” was about as clinical as the pediatrician’s office could get with their assessment.
Rebekah Mae is a rain lily of sorts, suddenly blooming and just about bursting with thanksgiving and praise. A new baby like Rebekah doesn’t give me much intellectual ammunition for a debate about the reality of the love of God; instead, she simply shines as a grateful testimony to life and light; she is a prayer; she is an evidence of grace; she is a vibrant offering of light and life and praise.
  • She shines as a grateful testimony to light and life
  • She is a prayer
  • She is an evidence of grace
  • She is a vibrant offering of light and life and praise
laughing uproariously
laughing uproariously
DAVID: David – all of 20-months, all joy and tears and laughter and fun, all “experience the moment” – is fascinated by his new sister. He likes to sit in front of Rebekah’s swing and poke her foot every time she comes forward, laughing outrageously and uproariously at the game. He pats her, he watches intently, and he gets down as close as possible to look into her little face and to see the world from the new baby’s point of view.
David is still very much a baby. He is fresh and vibrant and literally bursting with light and life. He shines. He experiences. He opens up each day like a rain lily turning its delicate face to the early morning light. His wide open spirit is at once an invitation and an offering of praise.
We, my friends and readers, are no less witnesses to the imperative of light and life. The day lily; the infant; the toddler; the 57-year-old writer; the ________ (you fill in your own information). We all confront the choice to engage this and every day with either cynicism or with joy.
I honestly don’t believe we are required to reserve judgement each day until we see how things go. I believe we can decide now, and then choose to live – to bloom – into what becomes possible once we acknowledge what the lily, the baby, and the toddler already seem to know.

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