It's June and overcast, only peeks of rays through fluffy clouds.
On days like today, I wish for rain. The downpour of heavens water on cultivation.
My flip-flopped feet stroll through flower art. Where hands dug and the ground swallowed seed. I pulled weeds from among the beauty and how I remember He is doing the same to me.
...and so I tend along my yard looking forward to filling vases with daisies, lilies & lilacs, while peonies are still robed in green. Waiting for their awakening to full life. The revealing of feminine distinction underneath it's protection.
I don't purposefully plant weeds in my blossom beds but they still make a home among this creation if I don't pull up all their roots.
Evidences of their existence remain.
They are sneaky and find rest in the depths of dark ground.
What sinks into this soil, returns to me...
In garden. In life. In activity. In heart.
My life is a testimony of growth in the deep pain of brokenness. How a seed must be broken into rich land, in order for something to grow.
Into the earth's surface of humus and fertility, I am cracked open as He sows me in and rains holy increase as He desires.
What is it that I will reap for His glory?
What will my life exhibit? What beauty will I be able to bestow upon Him?
Will I be filled with His fragrance? Will His fingerprints be visible on me, His creation?
Will I be filled with His fragrance? Will His fingerprints be visible on me, His creation?
...and so I tend along my yard looking forward to filling vases with daisies, lilies & lilacs, while peonies are still robed in green. Waiting for their awakening to full life. The revealing of feminine distinction underneath it's protection.
While bringing into my home the abounding harvest of summer in June, I see hope...
I smell it.
I feel it.
It is by His crushing we are healed... by His wounds we are healed.
Those who sow in tears
will reap with songs of joy. (Psalm 126:5)
There is hope in the broken. In the crushed seed.
Taking root in Him and waiting with patience for the flourish.
Are you waiting for a harvest? Is there something you wish would bloom?
I wanted to be the First to comment on todays post and tell you as your husband that the beauty of your writing astounds me. I praise our Father for the gifts that He gives. He has been especially good to you.
ReplyDelete~Husband
"He is pulling the weeds in my life" So Good, Manda! So good,
ReplyDeletexo Erin
Manda
ReplyDeleteYour words are poetic! I am so glad to have been able to watch everything that God is doing in you. It's beautiful, and so are you! Sweet sweet rose amongst the wild flowers of life!
"wink wink"
much love Amber
gorgeous words and shot
ReplyDelete"I pulled weeds from among the beauty and how I remember He is doing the same to me."
ReplyDeleteahhhh soooo true. lovely analogy :)
Bless you, bless you, bless you for opening up your heart to us. xoxoxo
ReplyDeleteWhat a beautiful post! Thank you for sharing - it's something I needed to be reminded of.
ReplyDeleteShelley
http://confirmtheworkofourhands.blogspot.com
Another beautifully poetic post. As for walking on the same soil, I guess it shouldn't be a surprise that the sixth degree of separation would be working in the blogging world as well. I only know of one other home grown blogger who I have listed under my "friends" blogroll. I am off to see if I can find some inspiration for tomorrow's post.
ReplyDeleteEnjoy your weekend,
Dana
Beautifully written..have you read Anne at A Holy Experience. Your writing reminds me so much of hers!!
ReplyDeleteBeautiful Manda. I think the book of James has some interesting writings about harvest...I remember writing a paper about it at Northwestern College. Growing up on a farm, watching a father frantically waiting for the crops to grow and hoping for his work to yield results...great parallels to God's work in our lives!!
ReplyDeleteOh a purely gardening note...did you know vinegar kills weeds? :)
Happy Friday.
Thank you, Manda, for helping us through our weed pulling times, so we too can produce a harvest for Him. :) Blessings and love, deb
ReplyDelete