This week saw the draining of our summer pool. The hydrangeas have lost their heads and the trusty writing shawl hangs on my shoulders a little more each morning. Yes, summer is gone.
I've never lamented the end of the hot weather, and I won't start now. It's no secret I'm a true fan of those months which bring us all things wintery. But in my salute to a long, hot summer, I dragged my mattock threw a barren strip of garden and tossed a handful of seeds into the turned soil. Not just any seeds. Beloved for generations and considered the flower of the Edwardian era, I planted sweet peas.
Just when we're cutting off the dried heads of blooms well spent, these little babies need to go into the ground.
So I buried my sweet pea seeds. Quite apt for Good Friday. As I pondered the end of one season, I slipped my hopes for the next where no light will shine on them. Not for a while anyway. Not until winter has settled in for its long turn.
But in the fullness of time, just as they were created to, they will shoot through dark winter with life and fragrance. A life and fragrance I long for.
You know where I'm going with this, right? That small moment in my day when I pondered anew the work of the Lord Jesus. His death. His burial and fulfilment of scripture and God's plan for when He rose from death to life. For me. And for you...
And there in my garden, with mud under my fingernails and Gilbert the cat at my knee, I gave thanks again. For life only God can breathe into barren places. For His timing. His ransom.
I'm always humbled when I see God's fingerprint in my day. I hope you've had the chance to remember the mighty hand of God as it swept through time and history to redeem the lost. To thank the Lord Jesus for his love. And the fragrance He alone brings to our world.
Praise God. Jesus Arose. Mighty Victory. Fragrant Love.
May your Easter weekend be wrapped in the secure knowledge of this love.
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| Sweet Peas - Photo Source Braybourne Farm |
Just when we're cutting off the dried heads of blooms well spent, these little babies need to go into the ground.
So I buried my sweet pea seeds. Quite apt for Good Friday. As I pondered the end of one season, I slipped my hopes for the next where no light will shine on them. Not for a while anyway. Not until winter has settled in for its long turn.
But in the fullness of time, just as they were created to, they will shoot through dark winter with life and fragrance. A life and fragrance I long for.
You know where I'm going with this, right? That small moment in my day when I pondered anew the work of the Lord Jesus. His death. His burial and fulfilment of scripture and God's plan for when He rose from death to life. For me. And for you...
 |
| Photo Source - The Murmuring Cottage |
I'm always humbled when I see God's fingerprint in my day. I hope you've had the chance to remember the mighty hand of God as it swept through time and history to redeem the lost. To thank the Lord Jesus for his love. And the fragrance He alone brings to our world.
Praise God. Jesus Arose. Mighty Victory. Fragrant Love.
May your Easter weekend be wrapped in the secure knowledge of this love.
