Making Salad

     Two of my cherubs decided to make salad one afternoon recently.  Bringing their play dishes and utensils into the living room corner, they proceeded to "trim" the maidenhair fern.  It had been one of those challenging plants to coax into lush beauty and was doing very well.  Well, it is now half-lush and has quite a few black slender stalks sticking straight up.  Walking into the room, I caught my breath, and went blank.  What does one say?  Hmmm.  Listening to the cherubs giggle and serve their salad to each other was quite the scene to behold and left me speechless.   I'm thinking we children of God enjoy quite a few things that cause our Father to wince.   Our earthly choices sometimes reveal our immaturity, even though we enjoy making "salad".  What is so amazing to me, is our Lord's patience with us!  He doesn't yank us back or yell at us or discipline us all the time.  He teaches us through His Word, He draws us by His lovingkindness, He understands that we are but a flower fading.  As we grow in Christ's love, sometimes we look back and wince at the salad we played with.  Let us be patient with those who are still making "salad".  We were there once.  And today we are making a new "salad", just a bit different from the one we made 10 or 20 years ago.  But it is still "salad" to God.  I guess the challenge here for me is to humble myself and realize that my Lord is patient with me, and so I should be toward others.  I grabbed a garbage bag,  gathered up the remnants of the fern, and went to play with the cherubs.                                                           K.C.

"Mulching"

 

     Yup, this is a pile of mint compost.  Can't ya smell it?  Our massive flowerbeds and garden are starting to feel the smother of compost.  And it takes yards and yards of compost to even make a dent.
Yet, when it is applied to the beds, the difference is incredible!  Compacted soil once again becomes rich and grows trees and plants quadruple what they would have been without it.  Common soil will grow plants, but they will be stunted and will not spread out with growth and beauty. Seeds will sprout in common soil but will burn up in compost.  Compost is not applied until after the plants start growing.

     In the Gospels Jesus talked about sowing seed on good soil in order to yield a crop.  I think the thirty, sixty, hundredfold yield had to do with compost.  The one who hears the Word and understands it bears fruit and produces. Young plants don't just automatically grow and neither do Jesus followers.   Our Lord "mulches" us out of His lovingkindness.  The more we understand how the Word penetrates our very inner being to bring nutrients to our souls, the more we receive correction from the presence of the Word in our hearts, the more we embrace difficulty as our friend placed there out of love, the more we will grow in Christ Jesus with gratefulness.  "Mulching" is just what we need though sometimes it feels heavy and heats up, stinks or takes time to work.  While patiently waiting on the Lord to do His deep work in strengthening our roots, we learn to love Jesus and trust His wisdom and grace.  How is Jesus "mulching" you?                                    K.C.

What is holding onto you?

     Such a beautiful quiet, peaceful scene we enjoy each day!  Especially since the horses are not ours.  Neighbors use our pasture, and we get to enjoy the scene without the work.  We were sitting at dinner with some of our granddaughters watching the horses.  All of a sudden Cicily noticed there was a bucket tied to the leg of one horse.  Within 30 seconds of that comment chaos ensued.  The horse started running around the pasture on high alert!  Two rounds and then it raced right through the fence flattening the woven wire and ramming a T-post down flat!  Down the drive and onto the main road the horse barreled!  The bucket came off and cars stopped and the horse finally came to a halt.  Whew!  What an evening!  It is a miracle that the horse wasn't killed or terribly hurt, but wounds and scratches were all that it suffered.  We are beginning to wonder what next week holds for another animal story. 

     This story, though, gave us a picture to ponder.  God has provided us forgiveness from sin through Jesus Christ's sacrifice on the cross.  God demonstrated His own love toward us, in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us.  Sin made us enemies to God, but His love and grace has brought us near to Him.  He brings peace and works healing in us giving us new life and new desires.  Sometimes, though, we choose our old ways and turn back to things that we think will fulfill us, tying that bucket to our soul.  God's mark for us is pictured in the pasture - beauty, peace, quiet, safety, fulfillment. 

     But we miss His mark when we turn from His ways.  Missing the mark is sin, and it cuts our closeness to our Heavenly Father.  When we allow sin to continue in our lives  until it grabs a firm hold of us, we suffer unimaginable consequences.  Seldom do we think about the cost of sin and the wild driven ride that will force us from that peaceful pasture.  Jesus set us free, and yet we allow ourselves to be tied to sins which cause havoc in our lives. Secret, small, big,  hidden, or open;  any sin held onto is like that bucket tied to your soul; it steals your freedom and joy.  Is the sin of complaining stealing your freedom?  How about savoring a different life?  A grudge you are holding?  Think more seriously about the consequences of holding that sin dear to your heart.  Think about the quiet, shady, peaceful pasture Jesus has provided for you instead.  Let go of that sinful hold which binds you.  I read a quote on my daughter's blackboard that I have been thinking about this week in light of these thoughts:

                  "The good life, the one that truly satisfies, exists only when we stop
                    wanting a better one.  It is the condition of savoring what is, rather
                    than longing for what might be."                         (Chuck Swindoll)
                                                                                                                                                      K.C.