Out My Kitchen Window

Three flowering hydrangea trees line the side of my barn. Over the years they've displayed differing tendencies. The middle guy is large and healthy, standing upright, full of blooms, round and robust. Almost a perfect specimen.

To the left of him is the runt, his growth stunted by hazardous North Country winters. Falling ice crushed him one February. That spring I gently pruned and staked him to regain stature. For two summers he worked to catch up, but as would often be the case he was again subjected to winter's cruelty. Ice from the roof above fell once again, leaving his trunk broken completely off. For three summers I have left him untouched, watching numerous shoots grow up, pinching here and there but not knowing how to help. This year, with encouragement from an experienced gardener, I severely pruned, bound the small remaining branch to a sturdy stake and waited. Two months later he is small (maybe 1/8 the size of his neighbor) but proud, boasting several large cream tinged with pink clumps of blossoms. He shows great promise. I am expectant and excited!

At the end of the row is my wayward friend, full grown and laden with blooms but insisting on tilting in an unfashionable angle. Late in the spring I found a large stake. Driving it into the ground I struggled to force him into an upright position. Tying him to the stake I could feel his pull against his new confinement. Now, with branches drooping from the weight of innumerable blooms, he is bowing over, almost touching the ground. It is clear; I will need a much bigger stick with heavy, thorough binding if I hope to get him in line. And I do still hope to get him in line. His blooms are beautiful; once he is upright and in proper position his presence will lend a perfect completion to my little line-up.

How like my little hydrangea trees we all are.

How faithful is He in knowing and doing that which is right for each one of us.

Lord, I want to bloom fully, produce beauty, and stand proudly and uprightly as You desire. I know I need the touch of your hand, the care of the Master in my life. Whatever it takes, Lord. Whatever it takes.

blue, blue grey, blue

A little heavy of heart these days. Is it the weather? I think not. Is it the realization that life is ephemeral? I think not, although that is challenging. Is it some other foolish thing that really doesn't matter in the face of eternity? I think it may be.

Silly, foolish me.

The joy of His salvation is my strength. It's time to look at eternity once again, time to let go one more time. This place is not my real home. The troubles of this world are not worthy of my concern. How sad to be troubled by nonsense, to let such trivial things steal what is mine in Him.

Oh, the sweet, sweet love of Jesus. Oh, the deep, deep joy of knowing that eternity will be spent in His presence.

Let me lift my eyes. Let me take good counsel.

Turn your eyes upon Jesus.
Look full in His wonderful face.
And the things of earth will grow strangely dim
In the light of His glory and grace.

Me? Looking For Something New?

We are contemplating some new theatrical adventures for yours truly. Looking and praying for wisdom in use of this most precious of commodities -- time. And a second most precious commodity -- creative energy.

I've entered a different season of life, one I've never quite experienced before. But not entirely. Although I am older with many adult children, I still have three school children at home in need of investment of both time and creative energy. They are the primary recipients of such treasure and rightfully so. It is bar far my greatest joy to give myself for them. I know now not only by faith but from experience that investing in my children provides a guaranteed return. They will benefit, I will benefit, the kingdom of heaven benefits, and God benefits. It is the wisest of all investment choices for one blessed with the stewardship of young lives.

But this new adventure would not overlook that investment -- it would simply accommodate it in a different way. That is part of the weighing -- will the balances remain even in the long run or will too much have been given away, too much that belongs to husband, home, and family. After all, that is my primary calling -- always.

So as I dream and as we pray, as we consider how to best steward time and creative energy, I am confident of His hand to help guide. And however He leads there will be ample adventure.

Because, after all, you know me and so does He -- always looking for a new adventure!

A Favorite Verse

Jeremiah 15:16
Your words were found, and I ate them, And Your word was to me the joy and rejoicing of my heart; For I am called by Your name, O Lord God of hosts.

Jeremiah is warning the children of Israel of impending judgment. He is facing derision, hatred, and scorn. And now, after obedience to the Word of God, he is realizing destruction is imminent -- and he is in the midst of an unGodly people. He cries out to God for protection and God promises him deliverance.

But in the midst of his plea for mercy, he acknowledges his love for God's words. He reminds God that he himself has suffered rebuke, that he did not sit with the mockers and partake of their sin.

I have always loved verse 16. Surely His word has been my source of great rejoicing in all situations. When life would have left me undone, His word was my strength. As sorrows overwhelming swirl around, His word has been an anchor. Darkness floods my pathway, but His word brings light, hope, and peace.

I love His Word.

"Oh, Lord, may I ever cling to the goodness of Your Word of truth. In this sin-darkened world full of brokenness and despair, deception and self-centered ways, hopelessness and foolish living, may Your Word bring light, joy, peace passing understanding, and truth. May I be bold enough to share the goodness of Your Word in a place where Your goodness is not cherished, in a world where the enemy has blinded eyes, in situations flooded with selfish notions of what is true. May I shine Your grace and mercy in all places where You send me. Let me be a faithful and bold servant of Your love, mercy, and truth. Amen."

Jeremiah 15:16
Your words were found, and I ate them, And Your word was to me the joy and rejoicing of my heart; For I am called by Your name, O Lord God of hosts.

It's Magic (Hopefully!)

Night number three of My Fair Lady.

Yes, we are having fun. And yes, it does become work. One doesn't always experience chills and thrills upon entering the dressing room, or donning the costume, or warming up those vocal chords. At some point along the way the charm wears off, the exhilaration of opening night jitters is gone, there are no more notes from the director pushing you forward into finer accomplishment (you are now on your own...) and sheer discipline is required.

So you dutifully brush on the rouge, stretch the muscles, lay out the costumes. You check for that letter taken on in scene 5, making sure it is in place on the prop table. The hair is sprayed one last time, a hat secured on top.

"Places. Five minutes!" is called. You move to your position to wait.

Then the first chord is played. Transformation begins. You become a cockney woman, cold and tired, trying her best to make the most of her meager existence, enjoying the companionship of an old friend, watching the passerby, meddling with neighbors. The show is running once again and you become swept away with the energy, the magic, the joy of story telling in its most intricate form.

A mere cog in this much-larger-than-you piece of story telling machinery, you feel the weight of dependence upon you. It may seem small or insignificant, but those involved all know and appreciate everyone's contribution. The magic won't happen without the successful completion of each duty, each role, each line, each flute ornamentation, each moved set piece, each lighting cue called and obeyed.

Oh, it's a complicated machine, this contraption known as musical theater. But when the wheel starts turning and every cog and gear respond in timely fashion, a magical thing happens. Make believe comes to life. Worlds only existing in thought now take form.

If we're on our game, the audience is swept away with us, off to faraway places and times, meeting new and interesting characters. They will learn to love them, hate them, or simply put up with them. Hopefully when all is said and done, they will have been magically entertained.

The curtain falls one last time. Farewell to Mrs. Pearce and her household.

Hang up the dresses, wash off the wrinkles, and put away the shoes. Stow those t-straps safely in the corner, ready for tomorrow's arrival - when you draw again from sheer discipline. Scales will be sung, makeup sponged one, necklaces arranged. You'll hear the call, "Places. Five minutes!" You take your place and wait once again for the magic to begin.

That is theater.