After the Storm by Karen Spangler

The soul would have no rainbows if the eye had no tears.  (An Old Saying)

We have had a most lovely spring here on our little plot of land in Texas.  Storm after storm passed over, drenching us and the good earth.  The flora and fauna drank deeply and in turn has given back a vibrant rainbow of the most gorgeous spring colors.   The rains spooked all kinds of things out of their holes to take up residence near us …. several water moccasins and garters, an opposum who continues to frequent our porch, squirrels, rabbits, ‘madillos, a raccoon, and an array of feathered friends.

Our wildflower field, cultivated over 17 years, is now in full bloom.  This 17 year plan holds much significance to me.  It calls me to gaze horizontally for a time before the hot winds of summer dry up the land.  For the most part, though, we usually look up, for as my daughter says, “In Texas the scapes are not out but up.”  So we have been spending our time looking up.  The storms have been a tremendous display of power and turbulence, and yet the blue skies prevail, dotted with the “cloud of the day” – whatever it may be.  It certainly is a most awesome thing to look up and not out, as represented in this photo taken from our front porch. 

My husband has been placing handwritten cards on my dressing stand each morning.   This morning’s card contained the following.  Thou, O Lord, art a shield for me; my glory, and the lifter up of mine head.  Psalm 3:3   He did not know that last night I read that Psalm before retiring.  The verse was already warm in my heart and became warmer as I read the card.   I do not lift my head out of my own stength, nor out of my own righteousness, nor for my own glory.  It is for the God of the Universe, the Master Planner, the one who is called Wonderful, Counselor, Everlasting, the Prince of Peace, or as the Psalmist exclaims my Shield, my Fortress, my Rock, the One who set the heavens in motion, my Shepherd, the God of my salvation, the King of glory, and my Redeemer.  And that’s a partial list of descriptive names.

When I look up and behold His glory it is enough.  I am satisfied.

I Shall Be Satisfied
By Amy Carmichael

I shall be satisfied when I awake, with thy likeness.
Psalm 17:15

I shall be satisfied when I awake –
Not only on some future day of days
When I shall hear Him call me, and arise
To leave the earth and all its changeful ways;

But now and here, each morning, when my sleep
Drops from me like a garment of the night,
When with the darkness all its fears depart,
And I awake to find that it is light.

To feel the sting of memory’s reproach,
The consciousness of yesterday’s defeats,
How much was purposed and how little done
In all its small advances and retreats;

To know a new day waits me, with its tasks,
Its disappointed hopes, its vain desires,
Its oft-repeated failure to achieve
The heights of faith to which my soul aspires,

Its humbling knowledge of my life’s deep need,
Its weary ways o’er which my feet must plod;
Yet I am satisfied when I awake,
Because I see His face, my Savior God. 

The beauty of a common dandelion.

Taken by Karen this morning.  Hop over to her blog to see what is going on in our yard.  Karen and I jointly have a dream of seeing Alaska though she says you don’t have to go to Alaska to see something fantastic.  We once had someone visit our home who proudly gave a long speech of all the places he had been.  Yet upon questioning, he could not detail what he saw, because he really did not see.  I have often thought that my daughter has seen more on our few acres than this man who traveled the world.  And this man never saw the need of his common man, nor the beauties of the common person… yet he held in his hands the treasures needed by the needy.  He did not give and he knew no wonder.  To me this was a great shame.  Instead of being a great man, he came up small.

C.S. Lewis …  “I gazed down in to a little ditch beneath a grey hedge, where there was a pleasant mixture of ivies and low plants and mosses and thought of herbalists and their art, and what a private retired wisdom it would be to go on probing along such hedges and the eaves of woods for some herb of virtuous powers … and having at the same time a stronger sense of the mysteries at our feet where homeliness and magic embrace one another.”

This week I received a little box in the mail – wrapped in white paper and a pink bow.  In it was a sleepytime herbal tea – maybe the herb of virtuous powers that C.S. Lewis referred to.  My friend does not have ample provision to be going around sending me packages, but she somehow saw my need for sleep and she somehow found value in someone so common and homely. (Me)  Think I’ll go pick some dandelions in her honor.