Sunday, May 31, 2009

Watered Gardens

Photo: Fountain show at Longwood Gardens

And the LORD will guide you continually and satisfy your desire in scorched places and make your bones strong;and you shall be like a watered garden, like a spring of water, whose waters do not fail.

~ISAIAH 58: 11

Saturday, May 30, 2009

The Voice of The Snapping Turtle

If the voice of the turtle is the signal that spring has arrived, does the voice of the snapping turtle signal the imminent arrival of summer?

Events this morning leave me able to tell you exactly what sounds a snapping turtle can make -- in a plastic garbage can, in a cardboard box, and in that same cardboard box on the back seat of your car. I relocated just such a creature this morning. Said turtle wandered into the asparagus bed and announced it's intention to amputate the legs of our dogs. Happily, I know where there is a lovely no-trespassing type water treatment plant with a little pond, next to a stream, behind office buildings. The perfect location for isolationist turtles.

Turtle soup being out of the question, it was forthwith removed thither.

Now, some of you may recall my rants deploring people who drop off kittens at barns and by the side of the road. Well, snapping turtles are a different matter. For one thing they're a native species (Chelydra serpentina) and for another, they're WILD.

The only logical thing was to find the snapping turtle a new habitat. Away from people and pets those powerful jaws are just a useful tool helping the turtle feed itself, not a threatening weapon. Each creature has a role to play in the creation, so as ungrateful and vicious as that snapper was ... It was really not fond of the car ride... I'm hoping that it likes it's new home and thrives there.

Friday, May 29, 2009

On the Scent

"If you don't know what smells bad, how'dya' know what smells so good?" -- Jimmy Bean
The peonies are in bloom. As the ants crawl up and into these petaled wonders, my family all drink in the scent, exclaiming about the glory of peonies. I can agree about the beauty of the flower, the fullness of petals creating puffs of joy against slick green foliage, but I am not a fan of that particular perfume. I simply am not thrilled by the acidic smell. It reminds me of roses but bitter somehow.

Peonies have always had that effect on me -- the nose curling dislike was even stronger when I was young. But these peonies I will keep in my garden as long as I have a garden. They were born of slips from the peonies my great-grandmother grew. They remind me of Memorial Day BBQ picnics in Granny's back yard. And they trigger other memories of that elderly lady, her tight perm and pink carpets, her "fly cemetery" current cookies, the endless miles of yarn she turned into sweaters and slippers.

Granny passed away several years ago. In my memories of her, happy as they are, there is that faint touch of sorrow to be parted for a time, just as in my garden each sweet smelling rose has a thorn, and each glorious peony has an unpleasant scent. It's just the way things are, and I am glad of it. I would miss these flowers had I never seen of smelt them. Just as I only have the privilege of missing Granny because I had the pleasure of knowing her.

Thursday, May 28, 2009

Picket Fence Placebo

“So when are you getting married?” The pastor’s question took me by surprise. We had not been discussing my marital status. We were talking about the wonderful writer’s conference I had just attended and all the ways the Lord had blessed my time there.

“You caught me.” I said. “I’ve really been in Vegas this past week and the hubby’s just waiting out in the car.” We laughed and I walked away.

Now, my pastor knows that I’m trusting God for the plan of my life. And I thought my pastor knew that although I would like to be married (if God has that in mind for me), I am content to rely on God’s love and never marry if that’s what is asked of me. After all when you come down to it the apostle Paul is not such a bad example to follow.

So the brief conversation has been playing over in my mind. Nagging me. Why would he ask me that?

No offence to the married, but I don’t actually envy you. My hardships are not any worse, or any easier, than yours are. Marriage is a sacred union before God and I honor that and respect those who are called to marry and raise families. But I have to say -- getting married is not going to solve any problems. Being married is not a shiny pill that will cure all ills. It will not cure every unhappy moment. It will not magically make life better (just different). It will not even guarantee that I don't have to drive in city traffic and that I always have a sympathetic listener when I want to talk. I have married friends. I know whereof I speak.

The only proven cure for anyone’s life is a relationship with God. He's the only One who always listens and the only One who's love is always unconditional, abiding, and satisfying. If we are not happy as single people, if we do not feel fulfilled in our lives alone, then that picket fence and 2.5 children are just placebos. We might think it’s curing something but we’re taking the wrong medicine.

Wednesday, May 27, 2009

Before the Storm


From the far corner of the garden, and almost hiding between two fir trees the sun chariot azalea beckons with a bright show of blooms. Meanwhile, closer to the house, the iris have taken center stage, swaths of blue and deep purply-black iris echo the colors of the water perry and the Japanese maple. Apropriately enough, those rich purple iris are named "before the storm" and spring storms are now washing those blooms and watering the garden.

Tuesday, May 26, 2009

Hello Friends

I know I said I wouldn't, and I'm still not sure about all this... but, okay, I'm on Facebook now.

Ridgecrest

The new confrence center building and covered walkways allowed us to get from our rooms to our meals to our classes and back again all without going out in the rain. So naturally, it gave up on raining and we had a pleasant sunny weather. I had an amazing week of learning about the craft and business of writing, plus amazing worship times, combined with great people and good friends, and oh yeah, and the "comfort food." Fortunatly Ridgecrest offers an excellent fitness plan along with all that food -- I took the stairs.
They're faster than the elevators anyway. And I think I actually lost weight.

Monday, May 25, 2009

My Country 'Tis of Thee

Sweet land of Liberty
Of thee I sing Land where my fathers died
Land of the Pilgrim's pride
From every mountainside
Let freedom ring.

Thank you to all those who keep freedom ringing.

Sunday, May 24, 2009

Blue Ridge

but tonight they are purple
ridge mountains
topped with iridescent
shot satin setting.

They are hollow, sad
ridge mountains.
Behind me and broken
lonely at the edge of sky,

they are home
ridge mountains.
They are swallowed in mist
and tears, and clouds of dusty roads

and I just keep leaving
just keep watching
the colors turning
blue.

Saturday, May 23, 2009

The Living

I left the Blue Ridge Mts. Christian Writers Conference yesterday morning expecting to spend about 9 hours driving. Now, many of you will realize that driving nine hours, alone, on major highways, during holiday weekend traffic is not one of my favorite things. [Not like rain drops on roses and whiskers on ... never mind.] I got off to a late start, sat in traffic, took a twenty mile detour -- at 5 miles an hour, sat in more traffic, and then again, finally arriving home after more than 12 hours of straight driving (okay, I did stop for gas and the facilities).

That sounds like complaining, I know, but let me tell you why it's not.
I did not know why I sat in traffic, but it gave me time to read my "car Bible" (the beat up old NIV I keep in the car for traffic jams). I opened to Isaiah 38... verses 17-19 jumped out at me, "Surely it was for my benefit that I suffered such anguish. In Your love You kept me from the pit of destruction...For the grave cannot praise you, death cannot sing your praise... The living, the living -- they praise you as I am doing today" When the traffic started slowly moving I found a Christian radio station and sang along to the old gospel hymns. Surely this was for my benefit, this detour, this long drive, this suffering, and I would try to praise Him.

As I listened to the radio announcer I learned the reason for the detour. A southbound driver ran across the median in to the northbound lanes causing a fatal accident that killed at least four people, in the spot, at the time I would have been there if I hadn't gotten a late start.
... I passed two more fresh accident scenes on my long drive, the details of which I do not know. What I do know is that God's love kept me safe the whole way home. I thank God that I drove twelve hours yesterday -- I might have driven only two. I am among the Living. And the living praise God, as I am doing today.

Friday, May 22, 2009

Worth Saying Again

May the righteous be glad and rejoice before God; may they be happy and joyful. Sing to God, sing praise to his name. -Psalm 68:3-4a

Happiness is what happens to us when we try to make someone else happy.- Anonymous

A happy person is not a person in a certain set of circumstances, but rather a person with a certain set of attitudes.- Hugh Downs

If they serve Him [God] obediently, they will end their days in prosperity and their years in happiness. -Job 36:11

The opposite of joy is not depression, it is a demanding spirit of self-will. The opposite of love is not hate, it is selfish indifference. The opposite of happiness is not unhappiness, it is self-absorption. Serve God, serve others, and learn true joy. -Anonymous

Thursday, May 21, 2009

Inundated

Bending beside back roads it flows, this stream swollen with fallen rain. Each drop of water adding itself to the creek, pounding itself into the nearby soil and rolling down the bank to flow and flood, each drop of water like one more piece of information. At a certain point it becomes clear that we can hold no more. The stream has spilled over its banks already, and even one more critique or piece of advice cannot be held or comprehended rationally by the tired brain. I love coming to writers conferences I love the energy, I love each conversation, each drop of water, each cutting critique, each "you had to be there" hysterical moment. I am sad when they end. But I am full to the brim and spilling over with floods of ideas and projects.

Wednesday, May 20, 2009

The Best is Yet to Be

Tonight, talking and laughing after hours at the writers conference the conversation touched a tiny sore spot.
"What are the top ten things you would not want to do alone?" was asked.
"Grow old." I heard.
And my heart broke. My eyes shut on the tears forming, eyelids held together by only the resolution not to flee from the room sobbing. I regained composure.

The woman who, in all honesty, answered that she would not want to grow old alone has inscribed in her wedding band that line of poetry from Robert Frost "Grow old along with me, the best is yet to be..."

My point in mentioning that?
Hi, single people sitting here in the room. WEDDING BAND!

Generally, I do not concern myself over married or single status I just try to follow God's path for my life. But at that moment I was wounded by the unfairness of this other woman, this not-alone woman being able to say she would never want to grow old alone, while I sat there alone.

I was having a nice little private pity party. But let me tell you....
Tonight my nightly chapter from the Bible was Hebrews 13. Have you read Hebrews 13:5? The part where it reads "... He has said, 'I will never leave you nor forsake you.'"

Oh.

I'm not alone.

Christ is with me. He reminded tonight when I forgot. He was there to see the tears I almost cried, and He knew my sadness at the idea of growing old alone, and He was with me when I opened my Bible to read the words He had put there for me to see tonight.

I may not have an inscribed gold band to tell me so, but I know He is here with me, saying grow old along with me. And do I believe the best is yet to be.

Tuesday, May 19, 2009

Tulip Poplar

The tree deserves it's name as you can see.
But why does that orange zigzag pattern on the flower always remind me of Charlie Brown?

Monday, May 18, 2009

Rhododendron calendulaceum (I think)

Native Flame Azalea still holding rain from the storms.
The colors of lightening and fire in wild tongued nectar.

I saw them burn the roadside as I passed.

Today I begin classes at the Blue Ridge Mountains Christian Writers Conference. We slept in Mt. Laurel, breakfast is in Rhododendron, and the keynote speech will be in Azalea... keeping it all in the same botanical family. :-)

Sunday, May 17, 2009

Saturday, May 16, 2009

Travelling

You're not really supposed to stop
even on backroad bridges
out in the middle
suspended
to take a photo.
But I did anyway.
How could I not share that view?

Jack in the Pulpit

Native American woodland flower and surprise volunteer plant. For years we have planted seeds to no avail, and suddenly, this year, there it is -- nowhere near where we put any seeds, probably brought by birds -- and growing happily.

Friday, May 15, 2009

Thief in the Night


I took a day and sewed up some projects I've been meaning to do for a while, including some samples of the quilt blocks I designed a while back for a quilt shop. This block is called Thief in the Night. I did four blocks each in two different samples:
Random Scrappy Bright Sample.

Controlled Coordinated Blues Sample.

Thursday, May 14, 2009

Fleur De Lis

The white iris are blooming in my garden.
The French fleur de lis (or fleur de lys, either is correct) is said to have been inspired by an iris flower. Looking at my iris in profile, I have no trouble believing that to be true.

There is a story told about King Clovis, who in searching for a way to ford a stream on his way to battle found wild yellow irises (aka English Flags, German Lieschblume) growing in the water where he was able to cross. He snatched one up and wore it on his helmet as a symbol of God's provision for victory. It is said that French kings ever since have used a yellow fleur de lis on a field of blue in their coat of arms.

Wednesday, May 13, 2009

Tuesday, May 12, 2009

Pieces of My Day

Creeping Sedum Blooming in our Front Walk.

Windmill Quilt Block, a Scrappy Sample

Making Fresh Mayonaise

Monday, May 11, 2009

Columbine and Flash


I wish I knew more about photography... why things work and why light does what it does... Both these photos were taken outdoors, at the same time of day (and of the same flower) but for the second angle it looked like it was coming out too dark. A shadow of flower against sky, which is neat but not the shot I wanted really, so I turned on the flash. I got my flower, but... for some reason the sky became a piece of painted backdrop, a piece of paper instead of itself. Why did it do that? Does anyone know?

In the Vase


May flowers, brought on by all those April showers.
Lily of the Valley perfume the air as I write. Our Lily of the Valley do not last very long, they come up late, they die back early, the plants look scraggly and weedy almost the instant they finish blooming (okay, the weedy part is my fault) but I will always want them in my garden. The joy of these tiny white bell blossoms and the scent they carry... no shade garden could be complete without them. It might help to slip some Daylilies and ferns into the same bed so it looks better year round though. At least, that's my theory we'll see how it turns out.
Also blooming and gracing the flower vase, Ajuga, Phlox, Violet, White Bleeding Heart, Ornamental Strawberry (non-edible), and Bluebells.
May is very satisfactory, florally speaking. The Solomon's Seal and Water Perry are out, the Columbine are budded and blooming, and both the Broom and Native Azaleas are putting on shows as well. The few hot days we've had in combination with all the lovely rain is bringing out flowers that might usually wait until June like the Snow in Summer and the Iris.

Sunday, May 10, 2009

Friday, May 8, 2009

The Rock Garden


The Ajuga reptans, known commonly as Bugleweed, is blooming again. I love the versitility of this ground cover, which grows happily in sun or partial shade.

I went down to the rock garden today and saw its blue spikes poking up out of the lavender remains of the creeping phlox. In the background bloomed the purple Honesty and hiding amongst their leaves the first flowers of the Lily of the Valley are beginning to show.

Planted on a mound of dirt in the shade my rock garden also boasts pink Old-Fashioned Bleeding Heart in full bloom right now. Twenty-four years old and still growing strong it is one of the oldest plants in my gardens.


Edit: Yes, that's all one plant. It gets bigger each year.

Treading Water in the Baptismal

I find myself asking questions again:


What form should evangelism take? Is the Great Commission really the most important part of the Bible? I thought the whole thing was important.

In fulfilling the Great Commission why is so much emphasis placed on just the "Go" and "baptizing" parts while the rest appears to be completely ignored?

How is it that this church is satisfied to be always at the point of conversion and does not seek to grow past that point?

Why are we treading water?

Let me explain. I'm seeing a pattern:
  1. Someone goes forward in church to show that they want to accept Christ (usually in answer to an alter call).
  2. They repent of the sinful life they have been living and pray to receive Salvation through Grace.
  3. They are baptized and become members.
  4. Nothing else happens. They don't come to Sunday School, they don't join a Bible Study. People (other Christians) hug them, promise to pray, and then abandon them.
  5. A month later they answer the alter call again (as backsliding Christians now).
  6. They get hugged and prayed for again. Still, nothing changes. A couple months after that they are answering alter call again -- still dealing with the same thing, or just finding out "I never knew it was a sin."
  7. And a week later yet again ... and still all we have to offer them by way of guidance is a hug.

Mind you, I'm not saying Christians never sin -- we do. Humans are, by nature, fallen and need repentance. So maybe I'm missing something, but.... Where's the part where we go to the Scriptures and figure out how to do better? REPENTANCE means to ask for forgiveness and to turn away from our sins. I don't see the part where someone explains what constitutes sin and says "Go and sin no more" as Jesus told the woman caught in the act of adultery (John 8:11). You know what you have done wrong. This act is a sin, He told her, but you do not have to keep on sinning. So don't do this anymore.

Why aren't we more helpful like that?

The Great Commission, found in Matthew 28:18-20, states:
"And Jesus came and said to them, “All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me. Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, teaching them to observe all that I have commanded you. And behold, I am with you always, to the end of the age.” "

That's a three part commission with a bonus:

  1. Go and Make Disciples
  2. Baptize
  3. Teach them to Observe (Obey) Scripture
  4. Bonus: Christ will be with us always.

Part one: Go ... where to go Jesus does not say exactly, but we learn from the journeys of the apostles in the rest of the New Testament, and from Jesus' actions during His time on earth, that anywhere we go there will be people who need to hear the Word of the Lord.
And Make Disciples... disciples are followers. Followers of Christ will be those who recognize the Truth when it is told to them and these disciples will want to learn more. Disciples choose to follow God even when it might be difficult. And even when they make mistakes or don't understand right away, disciples want to do better and are eager and excited. They just got hold of TRUTH and it's intoxicating.

Part two: Baptizing in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit.
In Jewish custom, the ritual of Baptism was a sort of rite of membership. To be baptized in the name of Christ would be to signify and witness to the other Jews of the day that these disciples had chosen to align themselves with the newly forming Christian church. Ideologically and in every other way they became Christians (i.e. their tithes would go to that church and not the synagogue). But the commission given to the disciples (and by extension us) does not end there. Baptism, or membership, is just names on a list and the eagerness of a new Christian will fade away if the third part is lacking.

Part three: "Teaching them to observe all that I have commanded." To observe in this context means to obey. A new Christian or a mature Christian cannot expect to know everything and to live perfectly. We need guidance, which is found in Scripture. But where in Scripture?

Do you remember the first time you went to the Smithsonian Museum, or the first time you tried to drive in New York City, or the first time you had to find the gate for your connecting plane in one of those big hub airports? It's confusing, can be overwhelming, even paralyzing for some. But maybe you had someone with you, someone who had been there before and knew which wing the exhibit would be in, or could tell you not to turn left because you'd never get through the traffic on that street, or knew that airport and could say 'we've got 28 minutes and our plane's on the other side of that far terminal we'd better hustle.' It helps. We need to do that as Christians. Is it really that hard? To say, hey, I've been there before, let me help you find your way... This is that passage you're looking for... Here's where Scripture talks about that... The Bible says this about what you're dealing with...

I suspect we are afraid. I think churches are so happy that someone actually shows up on Sunday morning that we pander to feel goodism. We don't want to tell people what sin is because we don't want to appear judgemental. We hesitate to tell people how to live according to Biblical principles, because they might take it as a personal criticism. We don't offer gentle reproof to help others stay on track or get on track because we are afraid that they will be offended and stop coming to church. And we're just so thrilled to get someone into the baptismal that we want to stay there.

We have forgotten the bonus part. We do not need to be afraid. Christ is with us always. We do not need to be afraid of offending when we approach in the Love of Christ. We will not drive away new members who are fellow followers. We don't have to be afraid to teach the commandments. (If someone is uncomfortable because of a sin in their life -- that's a good thing, God wants to make us uncomfortable with our sins so that we move past them.) To fulfill the Great Commission we need to do all three parts. We don't need to tread water.

Thursday, May 7, 2009

Last of the Apple Blossoms

The rains have washed most of the apple blossoms away already. It seems too soon, we have not even passed our last frost date. Still, there are a few late blooming buds lingering on the trees.

Wednesday, May 6, 2009

The Promise of Strawberries

Strawberry blossoms balance spring rain on their leaves.
Promising a day soon to come when summer rains wash red ripe berries.

Tuesday, May 5, 2009

My Silent Spring

I don't have a clue about MySpace. And I don't Twitter either. I know my limits. To all my friends who encourage me to spend more hours networking on the computer, and buy a blackberry or an "i-something" I must apologize. I cherish you all, and your friendship means a lot to me. But I think the cacophony of following tweets and chats would drive me to distraction.

As a writer when I turn on my computer and face a blank screen, formulating a response to an email or polishing a piece of my day into a blog post does help ease me into "writing mode" and yet these things have a finish point. An end stop which forces me to move on to the work I really meant to do when I turned on the computer; SEND.... POST.... FINISHED.... DISCONNECT. Okay, now WRITE.

The process of writing is said to be a solitary one and those who are called to be writers, in order to work, tend towards isolation. I believe this extends to the internet also, at least for me. So, with many apologies, MySpace, for me, will stay only this room and this desk; the silence of technology will leave time for hearing the tweets of songbirds; and blackberries will continue, for me, to be the sort that grow on vines.

Monday, May 4, 2009

Sunday, May 3, 2009

Imagine

Transmogrification.
My niece is visiting, and because it rained we played inside. We used a fridge magnet in the shape of a shovel to dig the sandy coloured carpet into sand castles and found an ocean beneath in which we swam as fishes. Her two and a half year old imagination then created a garden and the striped texture of the rug became the rows of a garden in which we planted seeds... I was duly planted and watered and expected to grow. My blue sweater suggested to her that I was Scilla and she sniffed the flower before digging me up and transplanting me to another throw rug garden bed. And when Gran confused by a crawling plant asked if we were playing pony rides, the garden was abandoned in favor of the open range as she saddled and rode the ponies, careful to mount from the left as is proper with horses.

Saturday, May 2, 2009

Dutchman's Breeches

The plant itself is such a round puffy ball this year. I think it likes it's new spot in the garden.
And the upside-down trouser-shaped flowers are more prolific than ever.

I love the way the raindrops just balance on the leaves in this photo.



Friday, May 1, 2009

St. Hildegard of Bingen

A German Abbess who lived from 1098-1179, Hildegard (follow link to learn more) was given to the church by her parents as a tithe because she was their tenth child. In her many volumes of works produced over the course of her life as a nun, Hildegard recorded mystical visions, music, poetry, medicines, and botanical observations.

Several years ago I ran across the information that one of Hildegard's recorded cures, using goats fat and sweet violets to cure cancers was being investigated. I haven't been able to find any follow-up information on the scientific study that was being conducted (last I heard it had run out of funding) but anecdotal evidence abounds, like the 1901 New York Times article. Not to mention the fact that the Greeks as far back as 50 BCE were curing skin cancers with a poultice of violet leaves.

Could the cure for cancer be right under our noses, in this sweet smelling spring flower? I can't know for certain. But even if the violet is just another pretty flower, I believe it is still worth growing in my garden. How could you not love these pretty purple drops of happiness?