Consider the lilies; how they grow. They neither toil, nor spin.

When teaching us about worry, the Lord directs us to the lilies. I think this is such a beautiful image of a simple faith on God constant care in our lives. The world tells us to work hard, try hard and push harder, but the Lord simply says, "Consider the lilies..." and teaches a valuable lesson on faith through them. I confess that I cannot describe my life as a lily, and at times, I may have to describe it as I-75 freeway instead.

So... consider the lilies. When I was a little girl, there was a tiny little patch of orange tiger lilies in my front lawn. Every year, they would pop up, happy as ever, nestled in the roots of a huge maple tree. When I heard the song, "He is the Lily of the Valley," I thought they must be talking about the little valley between the roots of the maple where my lilies grew. In my simple child-like understanding of that song, I loved to imagine Jesus as being like one of my bright little lilies. Every time I saw them as I was playing outside, I would start singing "He's the Lily of the Valley," until I ran out of the words and started humming it while I played. Because of this, I've always loved lilies. I had lilies at my wedding, stargazers, actually, because I loved the deep burgundy they hid at the base of the petals. I always wondered if the deep burgundy got deeper after it disappeared into the stem of the flower. They were the first flowers that my husband, (then my boyfriend,) gave me. He didn't actually give me real flowers, he bought me a beautiful painting of a single stargazer.

And to think... Jesus is the Lily of the Valley. In this article, the writer considers the fact that He is the source and the subject of all beauty. When we consider the delicate orange of the tiger lily, or the deep burgundy of the startgazer, we must look back to the One who spoke such vibrancy into existence. And in considering Him, the loud intrusive details of our lives, the "toiling and spinning", fades away in the presence of such radiance contained in One. 

Joel found that article for me, and also these links to an artist's project called The Four Holy Gospels, a project where he is using modern art to illustrate the four Gospels in celebration of the 400th Anniversary of the KJV. I admit, I was fascinated. And though I am not an art connoisseur, I was stunned by the beauty of his (yes, modern) art. Here is a link to actually flip through some of the pages of it. Let me know what you think.

Photo credit to Makoto Fujimura

Preaching

 Photo by (Tres)

There isn't a word that a preacher can say,
    no matter how lovely or true,
nor is there a prayer that his eager lips pray
    that can preach such as sermon as you.

You vowed to serve Christ, and men know that you did;
    they're watching the things that you do.
There isn't an action of yours that is hid,
    men are watching and studying you.

You say you're "no preacher." Yes, but you preach
    a wonderful sermon each day.
The acts of your life are the things that you teach;
    it isn't the things that you say.

If Christians were Christians, as they do profess,   
    men would notice their glorified mien,
and say, "What wondrous things they possess
    who follow the meek Nazarene."

Oh, Christians, remember, you bear his dear name,
    your lives are for  others to view.
You are living examples; men praise you or blame,
    and measure all Christians by you.

-- Florence Belle Anderson

PDA

"And he took her in his arms and kissed her under the sunlit sky, and he cared not that they stood high upon the walls in the sight of many."
— J.R.R. Tolkien

I think there is something so thrilling about a man not caring what anyone thinks of him with the woman he loves. In fact, most women are pleased (in a horrified sort of way) when their beloved does something painfully public in showing their affection. Dropping flowers off at work, proposing in front of a large group of people, or even something small like opening a door for her when it inconveniences the man to do so. These things make her feel special, loved and adored because he is willing to “look like a softy” to declare his love even in a small way. This is even better when he is caught showing affection when he thought no one was watching. Pharaoh discovered that Sarah was Abraham’s wife because he was “sporting with her” in public.  I’m sure Abraham was embarrassed, but I wonder if Sarah was secretly pleased at her husband’s fumbled adoration.

My brother wryly calls it “PDA”, short for “Public Displays of Affection” and woefully told me that he must not count as “public” anymore because my husband and I don’t seem to care whether he is watching a stolen kiss or not. This, I admit, is true. :) That’s what happens when you hang out with us all the time. 

I have a question though. Why is it when an epic film ends with a willowy beauty in the arms of her handsome prince we rejoice with their love; but when we see a couple kissing in the stark reality of our physical worlds we cringe with awkwardness? Or is it simply the singularity of such actions that make them endearing; and thus in the excess cause disgust? I for one would think it the later… but would love to see more subtle PDA between couples all the same. 

 

A little girl and the weather

Tis a rule, man's a fool,

When its hot he wants it cool,

When its cool, he wants it hot,

What it is, he wants it not.

My grandma told me this poem when I was a little girl. Now, every time someone tells me dismally that "it’s going to snow again this weekend, I am so sick of snow!" I think of this little diddy. Of course, not wanting to be a fool myself, I NEVER wanted the season to change when I was little. If ever such a thought entered my mind, I would dismiss it immediately, shuddering at my near miss of being whatever a fool was! As you can imagine, I took my grandma very seriously.

But this past winter, I found myself for the first time honestly not wanting the season to change.  I was longing for the snow to fall and cover our little townhouse. I loved the summer with its hot pavement, flip flops and the energy of the city around us; and then the fall, the trees with their stately autumn robes were reminiscent of old monks lined up next to the huge old polish catholic church across the street. But I longed to curl up in our little apartment and listen to the wind howl outside and see the snow sparkle from my kitchen window while I cooked. I feared I was being a fool, longing for the winter, but now that it is slipping away, my heart can’t help but mourn its passing. It was a wonderful first winter with my new husband and I still find myself rejoicing when the Lord allows a late snowfall to dust the sidewalks.

Thank You, Lord, for a cold gray season that makes the love and blessings that you’ve given us burn so bright and warm in contrast.

"You were never poor as long as you had something to love."
— L.M. Montgomery