Out My Kitchen Window
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.

