Tag Archives: Easter

Remembering

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IMG_1704It is Good Friday.  I go into our garden, remembering another garden that became a place of prayer, entreaty, yearning, betrayal, and choosing a path that cost life to give life.  A rosemary bush at the end of our stone wall has wintered, died back, and now demonstrates life beginning again. .Both  the garden I  am remembering and the garden where I walk are places of revelation.

a garden is a place of revelation

seeds that survive to grow

are containers that must open and change,

releasing all that they are

in order to become what they can be.

 

a garden is a place of repair

a wildflower stubbornly pushes through

a crack in the wall, filling that broken place

with green growing hope

 

a garden is a place pointing to resurrection

though whipped by winds and dried from drought,

shattered stalks lift up and flower

beginning again

 

a garden is a place of revelation

but not a place I can stay.

I cross its threshold

and remember.

 

 

 

The Old Oak Tree

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One of my favorite places to be still is here, beneath a very old oak tree in our church prayer garden. Its branches spread out over a trickling stream and bubbling fountain and a small labyrinth. In dry times, like our present drought, there is crusty brown growth along its mighty branches. But when we are blessed with rainfall, this turns to vibrant green. It is Resurrection Fern.

At all times I soak up the green and growing refreshment of this place. But it is in the times when I feel drought in my spirit that I come here to be still and know God, and to refill and refuel – the greening of my heart, Eastering.

Breathing in Spring

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“Sweetly breathing , vernal air,

That with kind warmth doth repair

Winter’s ruins; from whose breast

All the gums and spice of the East

Borrow their perfumes; whose eye

Gilds the morn, and clears the sky.”

When I read that Thomas Carew wrote this in the 17th century, I liked thinking how throughout time Spring has brought gladness and gratitude to men’s hearts.  I grew up in Northeast Texas where Redbud trees are among the first signs of Spring.  I have one planted in my front yard here, and I always watch for those first purplish buds to swell – sign of resurrection, of new life, promise of the greening to come.

Centering

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MaddieTeaParty 077

Receive each day as 
a resurrection from death, 
as a new enjoyment of life.
[William Law]

I do not skip down a Lenten path singing

my steps are slow, measured

intentional

a labyrinth path reminding

each day

take one step, then another

on toward center

and Song

Finding Beauty

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LastofFeb 026“if you ignore beauty, you will soon find yourself without it,

But if you invest in beauty,

it will remain with you

all the days of your life.”

~ Frank Lloyd Wright

100_1612Remembering the planting and sprouting

watching for beauty of weed and flower

cool dark hours bring both

LastofFeb 045To be still

to be astonished

to see beauty in a cabbage

before it goes into the soup

 

 

Easter Joy

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Our granddaughters are a joy for many reasons.  One of those reasons is the way they express their own joy.  On Saturday, long before we had fun coloring Easter eggs, and certainly before Easter morning with the excitement of baskets and the donning of frothy pink dresses, Maddie took the sidewalk chalk out to decorate our front walk.  She worked on several Easter egg drawings, but at the beginning of the sidewalk, she drew the pink cross you see in this photograph.  If you look very closely, you can see at the top what she thinks the cross means.  “Jesus Loves You.”

Connections

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John Muir said, “When one tugs at a single thing in nature, he finds it attached to the rest of the world.”  This year the early blooming trees are particularly beautiful. Redbuds, Huisache, Plums, Bradford pears are a riot of purples and yellows and lacy whites along with still bare branches. When I go for a walk, I often find myself at a standstill, stopped in my tracks at the sight of one tree bursting with color.  A turn of my head brings more flowering.  The trees lead me to each other, all singing songs of fresh starts.

March 1 on a South Texas Country Road

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March 1 on a South Texas Country Road

Winter palette fades.

Painted over by Springing.

Weary gray tinges green.

 

Bare branch silhouette

 Softens, hazed in chartreuse fog.

Baby leaves split tight coats.

 

Shiny buds unfold

Clover, dandelion, moss

Each green different

 

 Why call it Red Bud?

It’s lilac, pink, violet.

Purple vetch vines, twines.

 

 Blue wood violet,

Saffron puffs of sweet Huisache

Fill air with fragrance.

 

Indian Paintbrush

                                             Tiny torches start to blaze,

scatter scarlet flames.

 

Not yet showing bloom,

  Bluebonnets, Crimson Clover

soon add to Spring’s song.

 

 Bleak chill of winter

Gives way to resurrection,

melody of Life.

Ash Wednesday

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In a journal from three years ago, I found thoughts about Ash Wednesday that are much the same I would write today.  “Lent, Day 1.  We are adding readings from Psalms to the few minutes we have before Joe leaves for work in the mornings.  In all my Protestant years growing up, Lent was little recognized most of the time.  I have grown in need and appreciation of these set apart days approaching Easter and in all my observation of the liturgical year.  I crave the structure, need the framework for deepening spiritual sensitivity and awareness.  So begins arranging days and heart and home in new awareness of Eastering.”

Crosses of ashes,

sign of beginning journey,

mark Lenten promise.