In Full Bloom

Your life is a journey you must travel with a deep consciousness of God. (1 Peter 1:17, msg).

It's happened to you, too. You drive down a street countless times, conscious of your surroundings but without seeing things. And, then, one day, your vision is somehow restored and you become aware of houses and trees and minute details that you were formerly blind to noticing. You ask yourself penetrating questions about life and they way you are living it. And, then you stop and just appreciate that now you are gazing upon beauty that was once overlooked. Now, you are noticing a craftmsan's touch on your habitat. Now, you are cognizant of creation, of design, and the fact that we were fashioned and placed here by a God who cares a great deal about beauty. If you sit and twiddle long enough with the idea, you might also delve into thinking about the way he translates His character through our environment; how all creation is declaring redemption!

Allen Levi gets it. This Georgia-grown folk singer sees a story in what others would consider mundane. He has eyes to see the narrative that a misplaced Easter egg has to tell, when it resurfaces months after the hunt. We were created to be found, he explains in song. When at the beach, he watched two little boys in t-shirts comparing their muscles. Most would laugh and watch the two flex in a macho-match. Allen gleans a transcendent message about how we start comparing at an early age; we grow up sizing ourselves up to others in the game of who has more.

All that to say... Since Christmas, I've been keeping vigil of the amarlyis gifted me (and pictured above). I followed the instructions, buried the bulb and placed its pot on the sunroom sill. I've watered it and watched. And for months, that bulb sat lonely and unresponsive. Last week, for some inexplicable reason, it shot up, sprouted blooms and opened wide its vibrant-red petals.

AND then, today, I noticed the magnificent blossoms of this tree out the sunroom window. It's gorgeousness spills over from the sweet Cecil's yard into our own, as if they are choosing generously to share their treasure with us. For weeks, I've been discouraged about our own barren and brown yard that has suffered much under our neglect. Too early for a spring yard clean-up, I've been sitting on my green hopes to get out and dig up some new life. And, then, this.

So neither the one who plants nor the one who waters is anything, but only God, who makes things grow. (1 Co. 3: 7).

As Edith Schaeffer says, in her gem of a book The Hidden Art of Homemaking, we should put things in front of our eyes to remind our hearts. Lord, give us eyes to see and ears to hear. Make us ever-conscious of you on this journey.