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The Garden Grave
I recently dug down into our raised garden bed so I could place a layer of wire on the bottom. We have a vole problem; these gnawing nuisances want to destroy our potatoes and other root veggies. When I finished this strenuous exercise I stared down.
What does this image make you think of? I found myself looking at a grave! I immediately thought of baptism. No joke! I couldn't get the image and concept out of my mind. In a sudden surge of imagination and fascination, I could see myself in that grave. But it wasn't in a macabre sense at all. I had been thinking about the reality of baptism and how my old nature was buried in that tomb.
What else could I do? I placed a blue tarp over the dirt so that I could "green screen" the effect and then called my wife Karen. Lying down inside the grave I looked up and saw her smile. She knows me well enough that when I decide to do something creative there is no stopping me.
An image I always want to remember! Have you forgotten that when we were joined with Christ Jesus in baptism, we joined him in his death? For we died and were buried with Christ by baptism. And just as Christ was raised from the dead by the glorious power of the Father, now we also may live new lives. Romans 6: 3-4
I have been crucified with Christ; and it is no longer I who live, but Christ lives in me; and the life which I now live in the flesh I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave Himself up for me. Galatians 2: 20
We know that our old sinful selves were crucified with Christ so that sin might lose its power in our lives. We are no longer slaves to sin. For when we died with Christ we were set free from the power of sin. Romans 6: 6-7
He personally carried our sins in his body on the cross
so that we can be dead to sin and live for what is right.
By his wounds you are healed.
Once you were like sheep who wandered away.
But now you have turned to your Shepherd,
the Guardian of your souls. 1 Peter 2: 24-25
At this Easter time Jesus is alive, but are you? -
“The End of the Day”
Those who inhabit the boundaries of the earth are awed by Your signs,
strong and subtle hints of Your indelible presence.
Even the dawn and dusk respond to You with joy. Psalm 65: 8
Simply taking the time to stop, look and listen is not an easy thing. We have to choose to disconnect ourselves from all the other voices that are continuously calling out to our senses. Taking deep breaths, quieting our minds, and opening hearts to the beauty of sunset brings unexpected tranquility.
From the rising of the sun to its setting
The name of the Lord is to be praised. Psalm 113: 3
Thankfulness! As I look back at the time since sunrise I am grateful for
all the experiences of this day; the difficult, the challenging, as well as
the wonderful. I recalibrate my internal compass towards the Creator
of the Universe. The fading light of our sun reminds me of the constancy of The Son of God.
Tonight I will sleep securely on a bed of peace because I trust You,
You alone, O Eternal One, will keep me safe. Psalm 4: 8
As the sun gloriously sinks beneath the horizon of neighboring trees I lay down the burdens and wandering thoughts of my mind.Can all your worries add a single moment to your life?
And if worry can’t accomplish a little thing like that,
what’s the use of worrying over bigger things?
Luke 12: 25-26 -
The Snow Sticks!
After years of waiting the snow finally came and stuck! It wasn't like one of those disappointing times where snow is predicted, the grocery store shelves are emptied out and nothing really happens. This snow wasn't just a few hours of scattered flurries landing on warm ground and then rapidly disappearing.
Everything was just right for a great accumulation of these wonderfully white snowflakes to amass on the ground, the trees, and everything in its path. The snow falling from the sky doesn't discriminate on its target. The snow falls everywhere and covers new cars, older cars, and rusted out shells of vehicles in a clean, pure blanket of whiteness. Everything looks stunning!
Isn't it amazing how quiet our surroundings become. This thick layer of freshly fallen snow absorbs the sound waves and softens our senses. This beckoning silence calls to us; inviting us to be simply still and appreciate the wonder.
Do you remember the next few days when a layer of ice formed on top of the snow? The crunchy sound of boots piercing the top layer added a new sensation to this winter panoramic experience. The reflectiveness of the sun's rays whispered volumes as the landscape was bathed in a echoing soft glow. How easy it is to see The Creator's handiwork when we are quieted and stilled; taking the time to just look around us.
But why did the snow stick? It could have simply melted away and we would have missed out on this fascinating spectacle of beauty.
This makes me think about what makes things "stick" in our lives.
Jesus told a story about a farmer planting seed. As he scattered the seed, some of it fell on the road, and birds ate it. Some fell in the gravel; it sprouted quickly but didn’t put down roots, so when the sun came up, it withered just as quickly. Some fell in the weeds; as it came up, it was strangled by the weeds. Some fell on good earth, and produced a harvest beyond his wildest dreams.
"The seed scattered on the road represents someone hearing news of the kingdom and doesn’t take it in, it just remains on the surface, and so the enemy of our souls comes along and plucks it right out of that person’s heart.
“The seed cast in the gravel is the person who hears and responds with enthusiasm. But there is no soil of character, and so when the emotions wear off and some difficulty arrives, there is nothing to show for it."
“The seed cast in the weeds is the person who hears the Kingdom news, but weeds of worry and illusions about getting more and more strangle what was heard, and nothing comes of it."
"The seed cast on good earth is the person who hears and takes in the News, and then produces a harvest beyond his wildest dreams."So, just like the snow that fell and stuck to the ground and produced a significant accumulation we too must put our hearts in a favorable position to listen to what Jesus says. Otherwise this 'snow' will simply melt and disappear.
May the 'snowflakes' of Jesus' love be welcomed inside the central part of our lives. May they accumulate and produce a change in the landscape and fabric of our souls. May our hearts and minds be covered by the snow white forgiveness that He offers freely to all who chose to believe. -
Homecoming Invite
The haggard stranger seemed to have drifted into town out of nowhere. He was rough looking, with no endearing features. His face was etched with sorrow as if the weight of the world rested heavily on his shoulders. Yet there was something about him which hinted at a treasure hidden deep inside the man’s outer shell.
‘Homecoming’ was etched on the front of his well-worn cowboy hat. There was no beautiful calligraphy, no colorful background, just a stark row of letters.
As people passed by the man, they stared at his appearance. He made it a point to make eye contact with everyone who crossed his path. But his gaze was unsettling; his eyes peered into the depths and hidden recesses of their souls. That painful exposure provoked emotions in them that had not seen the light of day in a long, long time.
One day he went to the outskirts of town and began to assemble a large tent. He set the stakes and began erecting the structure. Many of the townspeople came just to see what this foolish man was doing. At least it was an interesting distraction to their monotonous daily lives. He strung a giant banner over the entrance to the tent:
“HOMECOMING: AN INVITATION”
The townspeople were intrigued; the disheveled stranger began passing out flyers announcing the opening of the event. This event would occur on the coming Saturday at 3 pm. People began talking among themselves. Who would schedule something for 3 o’clock in the afternoon on a weekend? They had things to do, activities scheduled, and there were so many better opportunities available. Why would anyone want to go to the edge of town to listen to this strange outsider? The mayor of the town was indignant. "Why this vagabond hasn’t even applied for a permit. Who does he think he is? Does he really think anyone would walk to the outskirts of our town to sit down on a dirt floor to hear some kind of crazy message? There are no refreshments, no comfortable chairs, no sound system.”
On the afternoon of this unique occasion quite a few townspeople actually showed up. Most of them came out of curiosity or because they simply didn’t have anything better to do that afternoon. As they passed under the banner and entered the tent they felt a vague, indistinct tug on a place deep inside their hearts. It was a Presence that seemed distantly familiar but undefinable. Each of them got the impression that there was something important which they had forgotten. But what was it?
The stranger walked through the doorway dressed in the same unkempt outfit he had been wearing ever since he first appeared in their town. He looked as if he hadn’t shaved in over a week, his hair was unbrushed and his boots were caked in mud. But he walked with a quiet confidence towards the middle of the tent and invited everyone to sit down on the floor. He began to speak. “I’ve come to invite you back home!” Some of the audience thought to themselves, ‘What does this wandering vagabond know about home? He’s the one who is homeless.’ Motioning upwards towards the top of the tent he said, “Your birthplace, your mother country, your native land is beyond the stars!”
One of the people in the crowd muttered, “I was born right in this town thirty-three years ago. My mother was born here and her father and mother before her.” The stranger said, “On the surface that’s true. But this place is not your home. I have come to show you the truth about your true selves. I have come to invite you Home.”
Some people began to get up and walk out. One of them shouted,, “You must be crazy! Look around you. We are the ones who know where our home is. You are the one who is homeless; a destitute drifter. Undoubtedly a vagabond seeking to prey on our citizens. Why, you’re like a pied piper trying to get any simple-minded soul to follow you on a ridiculous journey. How could you even know what a home looks like?”
Then this outspoken critic motioned to all of the audience, “Let’s get out of here! I can watch a 'Ted Talk' and learn more from the comfort of my own home. Look at the way this fellow is dressed; anyone with any sense at all would make a better presentation than this fool. Look around you! What do you expect to learn from a destitute stranger who holds meetings on a dirt covered floor in a tent that looks like a strong wind could blow it over?”
The stranger began to speak with a firm but gentle voice; “What did you feel when you first stepped through the entryway to the tent? Do you remember? I am here to call you Home. Everything you see with your physical eyes is just a piece, a hint of a bigger reality. Your True Home is unseen without spiritual eyes. Stay and listen!”
The outspoken townsperson yelled loudly, “Let’s get out of here!” Motioning to the people in the tent he continued, “Are you coming with me or not? Leave this fool to himself. We all know our way home; besides it will be suppertime soon. Go back to your homes and eat a good meal and then relax. We are the ones who have homes. Our dwellings are back down the street. They are furnished with tables, chairs, beds and kitchens. If there really was a true messenger telling us about a Home beyond the stars, don’t you think his arrival would be more dramatic? Where’s the UFO, the flashing lights, and media coverage? This is all a big joke; let’s go home!”
Soon the stranger was left with just a few scattered souls. He motioned for them to come closer. “The Presence which you felt when you first entered the tent is My Presence.” As they looked at the unknown stranger with uncombed hair, scruffy beard, and untidy clothes, they noticed a change coming from deep inside him. There was a deep satisfying fragrance that permeated the room. As they inhaled the intoxicating aroma, the stranger’s outer shell was slowly engulfed with a luminescence that showered their souls with pure, indescribable light.
“I am The Way Home. Listen to me and become a member of your true family.” These words resonated deep inside their hearts. They began sipping then drinking more deeply of this wonderful, ecstatic elixir which awakened the realization that they had walked around all their lives as parched, thirsty souls. A new awareness was aroused. They realized how incredibly thirsty they were. They had always been grasping for some unknown 'thing' that would never satisfy their deepest longing. Each of their eyes began to glow with a new light enabling them to see that they were the ones living on a dusty floor in the middle of a tattered old tent. The emptiness which surrounded them and had captivated their hearts was hollow and sparse. They had been living in a vacuum which was devoid of true life. They had been aimlessly wandering around thirsty and hungry for things which the world around them could never satisfy.
“Welcome Home!” the glowing figure proclaimed. Each of the fortunate ones who had remained, found this warm, wonderful Presence was now burning deep inside their hearts. Don’t miss the real Christmas this year. Don’t settle for anything less than taking the time to humbly sit on the dirt floor of an obscure stable in front of a baby lying in a manger. Take the time to listen to ‘glad tidings of great joy’ and drink deeply!
“He came into the very world he created, but the world didn’t recognize him. He came to his own people, and even they rejected him. But to all who believed him and accepted him, he gave the right to become children of God. They are reborn—not with a physical birth resulting from human passion or plan, but a birth that comes from God. So the Word became human and made his home among us. He was full of unfailing love and faithfulness.. And we have seen his glory, the glory of the Father’s one and only Son.”
John 1: 10-14 -
TearsOfFallenLeaves
Trees speak! We may not understand their words, but sometimes our ears are opened to sense some of their whispering. This Autumn Gold Ginkgo tree was lamenting the loss of its leaves. Just a few weeks ago this tree was bursting with echoes of splendor and majesty as its outstretched limbs were covered with vibrant yellow leaves. As the wind gently blew, a thrill of awe and wonder pulsed through the core of the tree. Warm waves of sunlight coursed though the photosynthetic veins of each leaf and brought an indescribable sense of pleasure and tenderness. The kiss of The Creator, like the rhythmic beating of a human heart, flowed through every molecule of the tree.
Light to Darkness – Pleasure to Pain – Fullness to Emptiness
Now the memory of those once beautiful leaves faded into a dark vortex that threatened to swallow up even the slightest recollection of their existence. The Autumn Gold Ginkgo wept as each leaf detached from it’s branch and joined a massive pile at the base of the tree. The pile of once golden leaves now resembled a slowly decaying, brown mass of death. What would happen to the inspiration and expiration of carbon dioxide and oxygen without the necessary leaves? It would be like you and I trying to function without our lungs.
The Ginkgo felt as if its identity had slowly and agonizingly been stripped away as each leaf fell to the ground. This once secure tree now stood naked and alone as the temperatures began to slowly drop. The rotting leaves at its base released an acrid smell of death, which threatened to overwhelm the heart of the tree. This hand of doom reaching out from beneath the ground foretold the impending loss of life in the long wintery days ahead.
The tree felt trapped; no longer able to reach out towards the sun and drink in the glorious elixir of life that once flowed through all its branches. But then there was the faintest whisper. But where had it come from? Why, it had come from somewhere deep below the pile of decomposing leaves. It was a song, with a melody so sad and yet faintly hopeful, that stirred within a deeper place which existed beyond the visible realm.
What we suffer is nothing Compared to the unseen life ahead Groaning in death and decay We will one day be set free The eyes of faith perceive This Divine Mystery of promise The Redeemer has defeated Death All Creation will one day weep no more.
The Autumn Gold Ginkgo tree realized that its roots still were intact and a part of an even deeper unseen network of microscopic connections which reverberated The Song throughout the ground beneath its empty branches. Would there ever be a time where Winter would cease to exist and warm sunlight and refreshing rains always keep the trees in perfect health?
We too can listen to the whispering of The Song deep down inside our hearts. We can embrace the reality that, even in the midst of the death of a loved one, a relationship, or a dream, our groans and pains will one day be swallowed up in the victory song of The Redeemer.
But now, when we are faced with the reality of crushed dreams and longings laying lifeless beneath our feet, we search for the whispering of The Song. Yet often, in the depths of our grief and pain we only hear silence. So, we wait in patience and in impatience. ‘I believe, help my unbelief’.
We can, from our perspective, stand at the base of the Autumn Gold Ginkgo and know that Spring will arrive after the long, cold, dark months of Winter. But, when stranded in the midst of our own grief and loss, we too need a point of view from outside the realm of our own minds and perceptions.
“O God my rock,” I cry, “Why have you forgotten me? Why must I wander around in grief, oppressed by my enemies?” Why am I discouraged? Why is my heart so sad? I will put my hope in God! I will praise him again - my Savior and my God! (from Psalm 22) -
Times, Seasons & Eternity
For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven: A time to be born, and a time to die A time to plant, and a time to pluck up what is planted; A time to kill, and a time to heal A time to break down, and a time to build up
Looking at these Sweet Autumn Clematis blooms, I am fascinated by their intricate beauty. I am compelled to stop and take the time to inhale the wonderful fragrance. Focusing on these dense, closely knit white blooms I am filled with a sense of awe and wonder at the way they softly dance in the cool autumn breeze.
I remember waiting through the many months of spring and summer when all I saw was a rapidly growing green vine threatening to engulf any obstacles in its path. Where were the flowers? But then I remembered that Sweet Autumn Clematis only bloom for a brief season; then the seed heads give way to emptiness on the vine.
A Time To Be Born – A Time To Die!
Seasons remind me of the ups and downs in life. Birth and Death. Being torn down and a time of being built up. Frustration and Satisfaction. Cycles of Killing and Healing. Uncertainty and Confidence. Was it always this way?
For against its will the universe itself has had to endure the empty futility resulting from the consequences of human sin. But now, with eager expectation, all creation longs for freedom from its slavery to decay and to experience with us the wonderful freedom coming to God’s children. To this day we are aware of the universal agony and groaning of creation......(from Romans 8)
The fact that our heart yearns for something Earth can't supply is proof that Heaven must be our home. C. S. Lewis
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Stop and look around
(Raspberries, Eggs, and Okra Blossoms)
Only a simple raspberry! (Really?) On any ‘normal day’ our world is filled with mundane, maddening, and miraculous events and opportunities. What can we focus on? What might surprise us? What simply presented itself and took our breath away? Anything? I’m amazed at the simple beauty, symmetry, and luscious taste of a raspberry. Did you know that each raspberry has over 100 drupelets?
A palette of multi-colored eggs! I’m so glad all eggs aren’t the same color. Boring! It’s fascinating to look at their variety in size and color. The reality of the miraculous shell and its treasure inside is easy to overlook. I could simply scramble, poach, or fry these eggs – and never know what kind of eggs they were. But it’s amazing to stop and take the time be engulfed in a sense of wonder at the simple beauty sitting right in front of me.
“There are no ordinary people. You have never talked to a mere mortal.” C.S.Lewis
A lovely okra blossom! How does this turn into an okra that I love to eat? I can become so focused on the ‘finished product’ on my plate that I don’t take time to think about how it evolved from seed to plant to bloom to vegetable. I miss so much when I just eat it and think ‘yum’.
But looking at raspberries, eggs, and okra on this one ordinary morning serves to awaken me out of a digitally-infused, hectic, challenging world which could easily engulf me into a mindless, daily, wonder-removed existence.
Do I eat the egg and forget about the chicken? The basic reality of God is plain enough. Open your eyes and there it is! By taking a long and thoughtful look at what God has created, people have always been able to see what their eyes as such can’t see: eternal power, for instance, and the mystery of his divine being. (from the Book of Romans)
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The Prideful Egglayer
Lord, my heart is meek before you. I don’t consider myself better than others. I’m content to not pursue matters that are over my head; such as your complex mysteries and wonders that I’m not yet ready to understand. I am humbled and quieted in your presence ......from Psalm 131
Once upon a time there was a Leghorn chicken named Claudine. She first came to our farm in South Knoxville when she was three weeks old. She was not the only chick in the family, but her personality was evident from the start. Claudine would be the first one to jump up on the roost, the leader in exploring, and usually the first chick to the feeder.
Claudine was a joy to watch as she grew up. She lost her baby feathers, and eventually her comb and waddle enlarged and became a brighter shade of red. She was slowly maturing; but all those changes took time.
One day Claudine experienced a feeling which she had never felt before. Everything inside her seemed as if it was exploding. As she laid down on the ground she was confused. Then there was a sudden sense of relief. She felt better. As Claudine slowly stood to her feet she looked down!
What was that? Where had that come from? Claudine felt an immense sense of pride and satisfaction. As she stood back and looked at the egg she said to herself, ‘I did that’. She began clucking loudly and all the other young chickens came running in her direction. Claudine watched as they gazed in wonder at the mysterious thing on the ground. Each of them slowly looked up towards her in admiration and awe. That night as she perched on the roost inside the chicken coop she was one proud chick. No one else had ever done what she did.
Her egg was an object of unsurpassed beauty. The more she thought about it the more beautiful it appeared in her mind. It was as stunning as the sunrise in the morning and the blue sky overhead. Over the next few days Claudine developed a look of smugness and an attitude of self importance. She was quite the special chick. She freely strutted her stuff in front of all the others.
Her bright red comb fluttered back and forth as she danced excitedly across the chicken run. Her egg was a glowing testimony to her uniqueness and special ability to produce such a wonderful creation. She took special delight in slowly and deliberately preening her feathers in front of all the others in the flock. Her vanity and big headedness grew each passing day. She addressed the others: “You can just call me ‘The Amazing Claudine’.
The next morning Claudine awoke to the noise of all the other chickens squawking excitedly. They were gathered around one of the Ameraucana chickens named Ruth. As Claudine followed the gazes of the rest of the small flock towards the ground beneath Ruth, she saw what the commotion was about. There was another egg on the ground, and this one was brown.
There was a brown egg on the ground!
Now the chickens in the flock began arguing about whose egg was the prettiest. The two egglayers didn’t get along at all – except to feel superior to all the other chickens who hadn’t begun to lay any eggs.
Can you and I sometimes act like egg-laying chickens? What did they actually do to produce an egg? They were born and created with that ability. Essentially, all they had to do was to eat, sleep, and not get themselves killed. When they reached the age to begin laying eggs the result simply occurred. They were graciously allowed to participate in the process but weren’t the originators. Claudine was a small part of the process, but not the star of the show.
For we are God’s masterpiece. He has created us anew in Christ Jesus, so we can do the good things he planned for us long ago. 
“Saving is all God’s idea, and all his work. All we do is trust him enough to let him do it. It’s God’s gift from start to finish! We don’t play the major role. If we did, we’d probably go around bragging that we’d done the whole thing! No, we neither make nor save ourselves. God does both the making and saving.” ………from the Book of Ephesians
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the once veiled door
Shortly before my father-in-law died I had two distinct impressions: First, I saw a door that was slightly cracked From our earthly perspective we couldn't see what was beyond It was beyond our ability to go through that barrier What would it be like to see things from the viewpoint Of being behind that door? Since he was a Christ-follower I knew he would soon experience that reality. Next, I kept thinking about the song 'I Can Only Imagine' What would it be like to see Jesus face-to-face? "Surrounded by Your glory What will my heart feel? Will I dance for You Jesus Or in awe of You be still? Will I stand in Your presence Or to my knees, will I fall? Will I sing hallelujah? Will I be able to speak at all? I can only imagine" The Once Veiled Door Peering towards an impenetrable door Which whispers of what lies beyond We are strangers and pilgrims In faith looking for the eternal We hope for a heavenly Home Built with Eternal foundations Is this longing only smoke and mirrors? Peering into a fog, squinting through a mist? Sin’s sting cruelly captures Our temporal earthly flesh Buried in brokenness and weakness Our dying bodies cannot rise But Jesus, breathing his last His Death bringing Life Ripped the veil in two Torn from top to bottom Confident faith believes that Our bodies, like garden seeds Planted in the ground in death Will be raised to life forever Through the shedding of His Blood Jesus, our forerunner, has gone before us Bringing us faultless into His Presence This once veiled door now stands wide open!
Brothers and sisters, we do not want you to be uninformed about those who sleep in death, so that you do not grieve like the rest of mankind, who have no hope. For we believe that Jesus died and rose again, and so we believe that God will bring with Jesus those who have fallen asleep in him……Therefore encourage each other with these words
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The Coming of Spring
Freshly appearing flowers signal the coming of Spring. It brings joy to our hearts to see that Winter is coming to an end. Spring means new hope, refreshing rains, and brighter days filled with sunshine.
But for some people the physical appearance of Spring is hidden behind a chronic physical condition, emotional trauma, the loss of a loved one, or an unexpected devastating circumstance that clouds our ability to rejoice in the springtime outpouring of new, beautiful flowers.
We look around and see black and white images instead of color. It can seem like our personal ‘Springtime’ will never come. It seems like the blizzards and chilling cold of Winter have permanently taken residence in our souls and we have lost the hope of Spring ever arriving.
But perhaps Spring is also a picture of something much deeper and Eternal. Beyond the physical images our eyes perceive there is a greater hope to be found. The eyes of Faith can bring us comfort in the times when unanswered prayers seems to be the norm; when black and white images have replaced the prisms of light that we once knew, but now are hidden from view.
I am a seed in the ground in the winter The wind and the snow such coldness they bring Long gone the sunshine, dark clouds enfold me Forgotten are times that satisfied me Watching and waiting’s so hard in the winter A warm ray of sunshine is all that I need Maybe The Planter will look down upon me Send help from Heaven to this tiny seed: that’s me Is spring just a dream; is winter forever? I don’t know how much more cold I can stand Is this what He meant about being broken? That from this He’ll raise up new life in the end? I am a seed among many others We’ve all been planted by the King of Kings Soon together, with all God’s creation We’ll share in the joy of the Coming of Spring Jesus, come quickly; You are our joy You’re the One that we need Jesus, come quickly: You are our joy You’re the Coming of Spring
…….All these people died still believing what God had promised them. They did not receive what was promised, but they saw it all from a distance and welcomed it. They agreed that they were foreigners and nomads here on earth. Obviously people who say such things are looking forward to a country they can call their own. If they had longed for the country they came from, they could have gone back. But they were looking for a better place, a heavenly homeland. That is why God is not ashamed to be called their God, for he has prepared a city for them. (Hebrews 11: 13 – 16)