Like a wing walker, ever the novice, I’ve practiced hard learning to balance on the back of my assigned eagle. As I’ve travelled through life it’s been a battle to maintain consistent equilibrium. Some days I effortlessly stand squarely in the middle of his back. Others I’m on the precarious edge with my toes hanging off flailing against the wind.


I’ve noticed that when I haven’t spent daily time with my Father in His word I am worried, distracted and thrown off balance. My days are frustrating and everything seems difficult. Contentment employs evasive tactics. Happiness is elusive. Hope, a mere shadow upon the ground, just out of reach. And peace quickly dissolves into my tears.


The longer I am away from Him, the more I avoid Him, the harder it is to return to Him.


His word, though. I cannot escape it. Nor does it hide from me. Indeed, it pursues me. In spite of me, it is the tether securing me to my eagle. It is He, Himself, through it, giving me strength and courage to hold on, turning the fierce wind into a buoyant lift upon which we glide ever closer together.


This is my prayer, oh Lord. Please, hold tight, and never let me let go.




Why do you say, O Jacob, and assert, O Israel, “My way is hidden from the LORD, and the justice due me escapes the notice of my God”? Do you not know? Have you not heard? The Everlasting God, the LORD, the creator of the ends of the earth does not become weary or tired. His understanding is inscrutable. He gives strength to the weary, and to him who lacks might He increases power. Though youth grow weary and tired, and vigorous young men stumble badly, yet those who wait for the LORD will gain new strength; they will mount up with wings like eagles, they will run and not get tired, they will walk and not become weary. Isaiah 40:27-31.

​

This was the view from my living room window earlier today. Something about it drew me outside for a clearer look. And this is what I saw…
​

Clouds. Aren't they magnificent? They're so intriguing to me, with their depth and softness against the blue sky. The dramatic contrast of deep, dark color and light within the clouds themselves.

I’ve always thought a cloudless sky - though amazing it it’s own right - was sort of… boring. Reminding me of a stiflingly hot day in the Sacramento valley. Clouds bring refreshment and excitement.

Arriving on the wind they call out and say, “Come! We have something to share!” Then proceed to demonstrate their acrobatic shape changing talents. Flashing a bit of silver lining they dance with the sunrise. If I dare to blink, suddenly they’re cavorting with the sunset. Before I can discern their next move they’ve vanished mysteriously into another realm.

If I fell into them, I imagine they could cradle me upon their pouffy softness.

Rain and snow, sleet and hail. Not to mention those lightening strikes! Yes, they bring it all. And shade. Blessed relief on that hot day.

Besides, Danny and Bing would have no song to sing if there were no clouds to bring the snow! Let it Snow! Let it Snow! Let it Snow!
​
And life would be mean if it weren’t for lean Gene gleefully Singin’ in the Rain! 
​
​Yes, it is nice to have a clear sky, swept and rinsed clean after a deep rain. Courtesy of… clouds. Leaves a nice fresh palette for them to display their glory and talent.

Yes, bring on, bring on the clouds!

It's that time of year when the promise of spring into summer makes itself known.

Spring is always to prettiest time of year for my garden. These pictures don't begin to show what's soon coming.

Though the rhododendrons have almost finished, the roses will soon explode while daisies wave in the breeze. The lavender is just pushing up flower buds and will be a purple - or lavender - haze by July.

The swallows have moved in above the arbor, soon little baby chirps will be heard.

Snow in summer blankets the beds while winter's heather finishes her bloom. The poor little scrubby tree on the left may have to come out. I tried to rescue it from struggling too long in a confining pot. The green along the stone pathway is oregano. It loves to travel and will seed any and everywhere. I regularly pull it out.

I created this lovely garden art from a metal grate. It was very easy, I just ran over it with the lawn mower. Ronnie-baby didn't appreciate, though, how it tangled itself in the mower blades breaking some sort of bracket and bending the blades. I think it's very creative and a nice modern art sort of contrast to our country garden.

This is a small glimpse into my early spring garden. More to come next time.

Wishing you all peaceful spring days!

​The winter and spring rains have abated leaving grassy fields, freshly mown, to mellow into their golden summer hue.

​Summer has taken over at my house, my yard. Though the spring lush has passed, the summer lavender explodes from its broad sage-green mounds, blooms ready for the harvesting.

California poppies sneak in their garden color amongst the Oregano, white and purple, their contrast copied, I'm sure, directly from the perfect color wheel.

​It's time. Time to move on and embrace the blessings of summer while they're here. For its long days are already shortening and will soon slide into fall, then winter. And before I know it, it'll be spring again and I want to be ready. But now I need to soak up summer, for that's how I can prepare for the seasons to come. Being emotionally and physically present in the current season upon the earth, and in my life, being aware of what it has to give and allowing it to press into my soul, teaches me what I need to learn for the coming seasons. I need the lessons of the present in order to be strong and available for new challenges the future will inevitably bring.

Thank God nature is never in a rush, cuz I need all the training time I can get.

A garden is not static just as God’s time, times and seasons are not static.  Nothing stays the same.  One change only leads to another.  Spring, summer, autumn, winter.  We are as connected to the earth as are the elements He created us from.  We cannot escape it.  To be out of sync with creation is to be out of sync with God Himself.  He gave us the stars, the sun, and the moon to show us His proper order for our days on the earth; the clouds that bring the rain in their season to water the ground in and upon which lives every plant and creature ever created.  He gave us dominion over every living thing ever created.  Some of these He gave us as elements to nurture the bodies He created; all of these elements, including each one of us, expressing a facet of His infinite character.

I’ve been reminded of this recently.  For a full cycle of seasons now motivation to get out in the garden has escaped me.  Every task, and there are so many, seems insurmountable.  Unfinished projects loom before me. Where I weeded just last week needs to be done yet again.  Weed.  Repeat.  Weed.  Repeat.  I can never seem to get beyond the weeding and clean up to the fun and exciting building and planting part.  And for the last several months I’ve been unable to garden because of a knee injury.

But now, my knee has mostly recovered and I’ve been catching up.  Again!  It’s like starting all over again with the same tasks, the same problem areas.  And I’m sure it’s the same weeds.  But my recent physical slow down and continuing recovery has produced a shift in my attitude.  No longer do I dive all-in and hurriedly attempt to tackle every project in a day so I can see the end result and move on to what I [think I] really want to do, like watch TV; instead I’m required to work more slowly, a little bit at a time, submitting to, synchronizing with the times and seasons of each project, whether weeding, building, planting plants or waiting for them to grow; purposefully observing as each unfolds, unveils and reveals its beauty.  It’s a process requiring me to live in the present and learn to nurture and be patient with life in its many-faceted and beautiful seasons.  

I had been asking God to give me patience and He asked me to garden.  I asked Him for discipline and He asked me to write.  In the time, times and seasons of my walk with Him, He continually reveals His deep and abiding love and patience for me and His many-faceted and beautiful disciplines of life.  My heart is fulfilled and deeply satisfied when I put my hands to the tasks they’ve been given, expressing what they have to say. 

The sky, she spits her vile dousing, hurtling it toward the earth.  Her ill-timed attempt to spoil our day useless upon our souls, for we intend to have joy expressed.  Endlessly, if possible.  Or at least until the light departs from our sight.  It's our day and we will spend it, every last second, on our own pleasure.  Our time too precious in our day to waste on this innocuous deceit thrown at us.  Away with this paltry attempt to steal us away from ourselves and our dreamers dreams.  Who says they can't come true?  No one!  We're not listening!  Our destiny.  Our fate.  They are before us and await our arrival.

The cloudies have gotten to me this year.  For the first time since moving to this beautiful northern land.  Last week, desperate for some vitamin D, I wandered around my late winter garden during a few hours of bright sunshine.  As hungry as I get for spring, I'm always surprised when the earth parts to reveal the seemingly early arrival of the green-tipped sprouts of the daffodils, iris and tulips.  And it's so funny, I know they're there.  I planted them myself.  But somehow, during the winter months, I'd forgotten all about them.  Forgotten where I'd planted them.  Forgotten that I'd planted them.

Last spring, while on one of my walk-abouts, I noticed some fresh green foliage coming up in a couple different places in the garden between my house and garage.  I thought, "what the heck is that?  Some weird northwest weed?"  I decided to leave it alone and watch it for a while to see what it would become.  Thankfully I did, as it turned into the most lovely bleeding hearts.  The same ones that I'd planted as little roots not that many months ago in the fall.

Normally, I don't hesitate to yank out any weed, but somehow, some ancient memory must have broadcast loudly enough the cry of those little bleeding hearts, prompting me to just wait and see.

I'm excited to discover what else I've got growing out there.  Maybe I should think about investing in a few plant markers... naaw... that would just spoil the surprises!