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Monday, February 28, 2011

My daffodils are breaking through…

He Treats Me to a Feast; Notes from my Abundant Life

My daffodils are breaking through….

… Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow: they neither toil nor spin; and yet I say to you that even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these. Now if God so clothes the grass of the field, which today is, and tomorrow is thrown into the oven, will He not much more clothe you, O you of little faith?
Therefore do not worry…
Mark 6:28-31

A blue and rainy Monday. I didn’t bicker so much with my children about getting up and out the door. The dog walked me just over a mile as storm clouds cleared; we had a pleasant time and didn’t get wet. My migraine is only in 2nd gear, my knee hurts less, and when I look at my garden beds, despite the overall forlorn appearance of my yard, my daffodils are breaking through the ground. By all rights, I have every reason to be ticked off, frustrated, or depressed. However, the emergence of pale green and yellow shoots through the mulch (that needs replacing) brings me joy, and tunes me in to the voice of the One, whom I clearly hear saying, “consider the lilies of the field...” (Mark 6:28-31) Lord, I thank You.

My daffodils are breaking through. My daffodils are breaking through. It almost feels like a magic formula, but better than magic, because there are neither smoke nor mirrors. My daffodils are breaking through. Spring returns. What seemed dead prepares to rise again. The earth is being restored, like after Noah’s flood, and I know it is well with my soul.

The Sermon on the Mount, from which these scriptures arise, is contemporary. It could even be considered radical, and in its time, it was. It addresses matters as relevant today as they were nearly 2000 years ago when first preached. As much as I wish I could say that my biblical studies are regular and diligent; I promise when blogging always to be honest; I could do better. That is why I am so deeply thankful that this morning, I got the message… my daffodils are breaking through.

In yesterday’s sermon, the Pastor said that you recognize God’s voice when you hear it all the time. She analogized receiving a call from her mother, with whom she is very close. As she said, when mom calls, I don’t need to inquire “who’s calling?” That’s why I get my daffodils. They are my harbingers of things to come. They encourage my faith, the way spectators keep you going in a 5k you realize you were nuts to register for and you can’t possibly complete, except with those voices of encouragement, you do.

My daffodils are breaking through. And I am reminded to hope some more. I am emboldened to be more faithful, having been encouraged by the voice of the One, who is a refuge for His people, who blots out our transgressions, who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, who is the Rock of our Salvation, our Bright and Morning Star, our Ever Present Help, our Rising of the Sun, the One who sent my daffodils as a reminder of His Love.

My daffodils are breaking through. And though I am not where I desire to be, or even where I reasonably believe I should be today, I am abundantly blessed by a God who can speak to me even when I am too sad to hold up my head, putting a message on the ground so I will see it. My daffodils are breaking through. I need no greater evidence that God is good. 

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