Snow Day

Be still and know that I am God.
Psalm 46:10

Soul-soothing Scene

It’s a rare snow day here in metro-Atlanta. I’ve spent the past several hours at my kitchen table, where I have a front-row seat to the view unfolding in my woods. The forecasted wintry mix greeted me when I came downstairs this morning, but the temperature has dropped since, and the precipitation has gradually changed to snow.

Watching the gently falling flakes soothes my soul. Somehow it always seems quieter, more peaceful when it’s snowing. And oh, how I need some soul-soothing peace and quiet after the past week.

A Monumental Move

In my last post, I alluded to upcoming changes.[1] We were fortunate to find a compassionate, experienced live-in caregiver to stay with my 90-year-old father after his stroke last fall. However, it became evident over the ensuing weeks that staying in the big house he and Mom shared for the past 24 years wasn’t the preferred long-term solution.[2]

Thankfully, the stroke did minimal lasting harm, but lingering cognitive issues and potent blood thinners make it inadvisable for Dad to live by himself. Thus, at his suggestion, we found an assisted living facility with a cozy one-bedroom apartment and set about planning for his move.

Details, Details

In reality, after we signed the contract, arranging all the details associated with the move became my responsibility since Dad is now easily confused by such minutiae. Informing his caregiver, hiring movers, filling out all sorts of paperwork, obtaining medical records and health screenings – the list was long. And, once we agreed on the move date, there was little room for error.

One week out, I began to wake up at night, mentally reviewing the requirements and deadlines. Sometimes I drifted back to sleep quickly, having successfully cast my cares upon the Lord (1 Peter 5:7), while other nights, my wakefulness stretched from minutes into hours.

Nevertheless, the process was moving along in a timely manner. Then, with less than 24 hours before the movers were scheduled to arrive, it looked like everything would derail. There was confusion regarding one of Dad’s prescriptions, so his primary care physician wouldn’t sign off on the paperwork required for the assisted living staff to administer his medication. The bloodwork for his TB screening was “indeterminate,” so I had to take him for a chest x-ray. We arrived less than half an hour before the imaging facility closed. And then there was the potential stopper of all stoppers: the result of his Covid test. Would it and the chest x-ray arrive in time? Would they be negative?

Oh Me of Little Faith

My anxiety sky-rocketed. I expect my blood pressure was off the charts too. I flung multiple prayers heavenward and kept going. Thoughts such as, “What if Dad’s stuff gets moved to his new apartment and his Covid results are positive and he can’t go?” ran rampant. Though the what-ifs almost overcame me, I didn’t cancel the movers. I continued to pray and sent an SOS to several of my staunchest prayer warriors, pleading with them to join me.

Several hours later, as I was organizing piles and emptying drawers in preparation for the movers’ arrival, the peace that had eluded me earlier quieted my anxious thoughts. Although it was fine for me to outline specific details in my prayers, by rehearsing them incessantly, I was acting as if God didn’t already know each one, as well as their ramifications, even better than I did. That acknowledgment, coupled with prayers that His will be done, finally squelched my stress. I knew if it was His will for Dad to move the next day, nothing would prevent it, and if it wasn’t, then God had a good reason for him not to go.

I awoke early the following day and checked my email. The PCR test results were available. I prayed as I scrolled and rejoiced when I saw: NEGATIVE. Other messages conveyed more good news: the chest x-ray was clear, and Dad’s PCP had signed the requisite paperwork. Dad could make the move along with his things.

Dust Moments

As is often the case when I’ve worry-warted over a critical outcome, the tears that instantly sprang to my eyes were a combination of relief and thankfulness mixed with remorse for doubting God and not trusting Him completely with the situation.

Several days later, I realized when I become anxiously frantic, the underlying cause is usually a subconscious assumption: “It’s all up to me. If I fail, all is lost. The world, or at least my little corner of it, is depending on me to hold it together.”

After nearly 50 years of walking with the Lord, you would think I would have outgrown such unfounded, even arrogant, notions. In fact, I took an intense refresher course this time last year as Mom was living out her final weeks.[3] But, alas, it appears I  have to relearn the lesson periodically.

And so I’m thankful for my compassionate heavenly Father, Who is slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love (Exodus 34:6). He knows I’m dust and loves me anyway (Psalm 103:13-14).

His Part, My Part

From my vantage point at the table, I’ve not only been able to watch the snow, but I’ve also been able to keep an eye on the birds. They descended on the feeders as soon as I returned them to their hooks this morning, and there has been a steady stream of hungry visitors ever since.

Observing them and writing about the past week’s events reminded me of a recent conversation with my grandchildren. We were talking about pets and noted I no longer have any furry house companions.

I added, “But I have my birds! They’re my outside pets.”

Five-year-old Emma quipped, “Those aren’t your birds, Grammie. Those are the world’s birds.”

I acceded, “You’re right, Emma. They’re God’s birds, but He lets me help take care of them.”

And so it is with my loved ones. They belong to Him, and He allows me to help take care of them. He has a plan for them and me, and His purposes will prevail (Isaiah 55:8-11).

Heavenly Father, thank You for the quiet beauty of this day and the opportunity to be still in Your presence. Thank You that You are our compassionate Father, well-acquainted with the frailties of our finite flesh, yet always abounding in love for Your children.


[1] Please see “Age-old Assurances for a New Year.”

[2] Mom passed away last April.

[3] Please see “Who’s in Control?” in Archives, September 2021.

Age-old Assurances for a New Year

But this I call to mind, and therefore I have hope: The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases; his mercies never come to an end; they are new every morning; great is your faithfulness. “The Lord is my portion,” says my soul, “therefore I will hope in him.”
Lamentations 3:21-24

Downcast

It’s a rainy afternoon in Georgia, and my mood matches the scene outside my window. For as long as I can remember, I’ve used the last few days of December to reflect on the year just past and plan for the one ahead. But a week of isolation due to a positive Covid test may have given me too much time for my yearend ruminations.

Recent celebrations hammered home the resounding headline for 2021: Mom’s gone. The New Year won’t change that or bring her back.

And, already looming on the horizon, more significant changes for our family, the details and what-ifs of which are disconcerting. Plus, there will no doubt be challenges currently known only to God.

Fighting for Joy

As you may have gleaned from my last couple of posts, though, I’ve been valiantly fighting for joy throughout this first holiday season without Mom by counseling my heart with truth. This post is no different, so I’ll let Scripture do the talking for a while:

  • Deuteronomy 31:8: “It is the Lord who goes before you. He will be with you; he will not leave you or forsake you. Do not fear or be dismayed.”
  • John 16:33: “I have said these things to you, that in me you may have peace. In the world you will have tribulation. But take heart; I have overcome the world.”
  • Romans 8:28: And we know that for those who love God all things work together for good, for those who are called according to his purpose.
  • 2 Corinthians 4:17: This light momentary affliction is preparing for us an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison.
  • James 1:2-4: Count it all joy, my brothers, when you meet trials of various kinds, for you know that the testing of your faith produces steadfastness. And let steadfastness have its full effect, that you may be perfect and complete, lacking in nothing.

Proven O’er and O’er

Scripture is the inspired word of God and to be trusted regardless of our feelings or circumstances; however, one of the things I like best about growing older is I have more and more real-life examples of God’s faithfulness and trustworthiness to recall. As the lyrics to ‘Tis So Sweet to Trust in Jesus say, “Jesus, Jesus, how I trust Him! How I’ve proved Him o’er and o’er! Jesus, Jesus, precious Jesus! O for grace to trust Him more!”[1]

There will be challenges this year, but the Lord has never left or forsaken me, and He never will. In fact, He uses the hard things to draw me closer to Him, to grow my faith, and to comfort and encourage me so that I might comfort and encourage others with the same comfort and encouragement I’ve received (2 Corinthians 1:3-4).

And, just as there are unknown difficulties ahead, there will be joy and blessing beyond what I can ask or imagine because God does work all things together for good for His beloved children.

Encourage One Another

I don’t know how you’re feeling today, dear reader. Maybe you’re entering the new year buoyed by fun family gatherings, having enjoyed all your favorite foods and traditions. Then again, you may be like me, fighting for joy, having engaged in those traditions without a loved one, and facing more changes in the near future.  

Regardless of our circumstances, we can take heart in knowing we belong to the One who never changes (Hebrews 13:8). Our loving Heavenly Father is always working out His purposes according to His good and perfect plans and will see them through to completion, when Jesus returns to set all things right. Therefore, let us encourage our own hearts and one another with all we know to be true as we await His promised return.

Dear Lord, thank You that we can come to You with our joys and sorrows, our hopes and fears, knowing that You are a compassionate Father who remembers we are dust. Your mercies are new every morning, and your grace is sufficient for each day. Thank You that we’ll never face life alone because You are with us, now and forever.

P.S. Since I started this post some three hours ago, the rain has stopped, and the sun has peeked out a time or two, providing the amen to my thoughts.


[1] Louisa M. R. Stead

One Piece

God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble. Therefore we will not fear though the earth gives way, though the mountains be moved into the heart of the sea, though its waters roar and foam, though the mountains tremble at its swelling. 
Psalm 46:1-3

A Song from the Past

Lyrics from the Wayne Watson song, “Hard Times,” have been replaying in my mind recently, not as an annoying melody that I can’t get out of my head, but as a gentle reminder of an eternal promise –  the Lord will never leave me or forsake me:

Hey, did I hear you say
You’ve fallen on some hard times?
That your dreams are crushed
And scattered to the wind
And if there’s a someday
When the pain will be forgotten
Right now, it’s too much
For your heart to comprehend

You say you wish that you
Could get back to the good times
Back when life and love
And plans fell into place
Before the floods came
Before the dam started breaking
Back when the waves kept their distance
From your faith

But in the hard times
When your world has gone to pieces
You pick up the one piece
That matters most
’Cause in hard times
You learn to hold on to Jesus
Oh, there’s no other place
To know the strength of your faith
But in the hard times[1]

When we moved to Georgia in 1992, it felt like the pieces of my life were scattered. My husband, two little girls, and I left our home, church, and friends, some of whom we’d known for years during our time in Delaware. But, by the time the song came out the following year, we were settling into our new community, church, school, and work routines. We chose a home close to church, the girls’ school, and Ray’s employer, which meant I had a 63-mile drive one-way to my job. Instead of a burden, though, my commute gave me some uninterrupted time with the Lord. I sometimes quipped, “The Lord took away the support system I had in Delaware, but He gave me Himself and an hourlong drive to Dalton.”

I spent the drive time praying and listening to contemporary Christian artists like Wayne Watson. The combination of music plus truth ensured the concepts they sang about were securely planted in my memory.

The One Piece hadn’t remained in Delaware. He was very much with me.

More Scattered Pieces

Little did I know that the upheaval caused by the move would pale compared to what was to come in April 1997. A few weeks after his 39th birthday, Ray went to work, had a fatal heart attack, and never returned home. My partner, the person I depended on most, was gone. Left to raise our two young daughters alone, I turned to the One who promised to be a Father to the fatherless and a Defender of widows. I found Him faithful.

In December 2010, as I stood by my mom’s hospital gurney, I received news that would rock my world yet again: her heart catheterization revealed three life-threatening blockages. The attendants began prepping Mom for surgery immediately so the surgeons could get to work as soon as an operating room became available. I stood there stunned, feeling so alone. But I wasn’t alone at all. God was with me.

Late January 2011 found me sitting in a windowless conference room across from my manager and her boss. Though I anticipated a life-changing message, hearing her words still caused me to go numb. “I know you’re expecting to have your annual review, but you won’t be having it because your job has been eliminated.” Just like that, my 30-year career ended. But God had other plans, new, incredible pieces to add to my life.

Late one night in April 2019, I left Mom in the emergency department, trudged to my car, and wondered if I’d see her alive again. The doctor’s diagnosis, aspiration pneumonia, didn’t bode well for someone so tiny and frail. I tossed and turned most of the night, countering fear with all I knew to be true about God’s character. Mom made it through 24 grueling days in the hospital and rehab, and we joyfully welcomed her home.

We were blessed to have her for two more years until she fell and broke her hip in mid-April 2021. The ten days between the fall and her Homegoing were some of the most difficult I’ve ever navigated. The excruciating physical pain she felt found its counterpart in my emotional distress. Even so, the Lord was near, directing and redirecting, until the moment He called her Home.

Another Storm

And now here I am, barely six months after losing my precious mother, dealing with the after-effects of my 90-year-old father’s stroke. There are moments when I’m tempted to despair, when the thought of burying my remaining parent is too much to bear.

But then the chorus from “Hard Times” starts playing in my head, and I pick up the One Piece that matters most and hold on as tightly as I can, knowing that even if my grasp starts to fail, He’ll never loosen His grip on me.

Strength Training

The lyrics, “There’s no better way to know the strength of your faith but in hard times,” remind me of the Apostle James’ statement, “Count it all joy, my brothers, when you meet trials of various kinds, for you know that the testing of your faith produces steadfastness.” (James 1:2) The Apostle Paul affirms and expands upon the concept in his letter to the Romans: “We rejoice in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, and hope does not put us to shame, because God’s love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit who has been given to us (Romans 5:3-5).

Rejoicing in suffering and finding joy in trials is counterintuitive until you realize experiencing difficult circumstances is the best way to grow our faith because we find God to be trustworthy to keep His promises, not sometimes, but every time. I don’t know what you’re going through, dear reader. Maybe life is smooth and hassle-free at the moment, but if you’re facing hardships and challenges, I pray you’ll do what I did above. Remind yourself of times in the past when God has been with you and know He will be with you to the end, no matter what He providentially allows into your life.

Dear Lord, how I praise and thank You that You are our Rock and our Refuge, an ever-present help in times of trouble. Even if other pieces of our lives are scattered, in disarray, or missing altogether, You will never leave or forsake us.  


[1] The first two verses and chorus of “Hard Times,” released on Wayne Watson’s 1993 album, “A Beautiful Place.” Words and music by Gary and Lisa Driskell.

One Piece

Annual Reflections

Dear Readers,

Yesterday was the 7th anniversary of my foray into the world of blogging. After plenty of contemplation and a dash of trepidation, I launched Back 2 the Garden on July 1, 2014 with “Consider it Pure Joy.” Some six years later, that article became the basis of the prologue for my first book, Be Still, Quiet Moments With God in My Garden.[1]

Yes, after five years of talking and dreaming about compiling some of my posts into a devotional book, I finally got down to the hard work of doing so. Even though I had plenty of material to work from, I’d initially written the posts as stand-alone pieces, and it took countless hours to craft them into a single volume.  However, it was so worth the effort! Not that I’ve garnered fame and fortune by publishing Be Still, but that wasn’t the point anyway.

The rewards were priceless, not measurable in terms of sales – the joy of fulfilling the dream, the pride my grandchildren felt when they gave “Grammie’s book” to their teachers for Christmas, and the excitement shared by friends and family when the book went on sale. Best of all, I finished Be Still in time for Mom to read it. As I wrote in the dedication, she was my life-long cheerleader and prayer warrior. She couldn’t have been happier or prouder when I gave her her copy of Be Still. Mom’s passing on April 30th left a gaping hole in my life, yet I know the petitions she raised on my behalf over the years are in effect, and her words of praise and encouragement will always be with me.

This is my 193rd post. My goal in writing remains the same as it was in the summer of 2014 – to recount God’s great love and faithfulness and motivate others to look for evidence of His care that is all around us.  We can trust Him, even amidst the most challenging circumstances.

Thank you, readers, for joining me on this journey. Some of you have been with me from the beginning, while others are more recent followers. I’ll keep writing as long as the Lord enables me to do so. And I’ll continue to pray that my words will be encouraging and hope-filled, always pointing to the One Who is able to do far more than all we ask or imagine and Who loved us so much He sent His Son to die for us.

The Lord bless you and keep you; the Lord make his face to shine upon you and be gracious to you; the Lord lift up his countenance upon you and give you peace (Numbers 6:24-26).


[1] https://www.amazon.com/Be-Still-Quiet-Moments-Garden/dp/1735373338/ref=sr_1_1?dchild=1&keywords=patsy+kuipers&qid=1625255136&sr=8-1

Ten Years

The Backstory

January 26, 2021, marked the tenth anniversary of the end of my 30-year career. My last day wasn’t preceded by a countdown of crossed-out calendar days, nor was it observed with a celebratory send-off. No, my long tenure sputtered to a conclusion when my department eliminated my job and, according to my boss, there was no other work for me.

Our HR manager filled me in on benefits and legal details before requesting I leave as unobtrusively as possible after turning in my computer, building pass, and company credit card. I didn’t get to say goodbye to anyone except the sympathetic IT associate who took possession of those items. Though all aspects of being terminated were tough, being deprived of the opportunity to bid farewell to longtime customers and colleagues broke my heart.

If you’re unfamiliar with the rest of this story, you may be thinking I was consumed by bitterness over the demise of my position. But longtime readers know that though some may have meant the events of that day for evil, God surely meant them for good. So much so, that this is one of the mega-milestones I intentionally ponder each year, recounting how God works all things together for good, even the most painful ones. [1]

Praying, Weeping, and Rejoicing

My work life began to derail when I was assigned to a new manager who restructured our roles. Bereft of most of my previous responsibilities, I went from days full of meaningful work to wondering how I would make it to lunch, much less fill eight hours. I became angry and confused.

But knowing God is sovereign over every detail, I began to pray. Was the Lord allowing the challenges to mount up so I’d resign, or was it to build character, an opportunity to be a life-giver despite my circumstances (Romans 5:3-4)?

I confided in several friends, asking them to join me in praying I would know what to do and that my actions and attitudes would be pleasing to God. As the day of my performance review drew near, I felt sure my employment status was about to change. The Lord graciously prepared me to hear the definitive answer to those prayers for direction.  My first thought, “This is real!” was quickly followed by, “Thank you, Lord, for such a clear answer.”

As news of my departure made the rounds, friends, colleagues, and customers expressed both condolences and congratulations. They were weeping with me over the abrupt end to my career and rejoicing with me over future possibilities (Romans 12:15). Many have continued to pray, weep, and rejoice with me as my post-corporate life evolved, making the journey that much sweeter.

Daily Bread

In the waning months of my corporate life, I ran and re-ran financial scenarios, wondering if I had enough in savings to retire. Should I try to work for a few more months? Years? Would I be able to pay my bills? What if a medical emergency came up?

Though I gleaned no precise answers to my questions, the Lord reminded me of His sufficiency. He has determined the number of my days (Psalm 139:16) and knows what I need before I ask (Matthew 6:8). By the time I lost my job, I’d been a widow for over 13 years. I had seen God’s faithfulness in providing for my daughters and me, personal proof of Jesus’ declaration that if God provides for the birds of the air and the lilies of the field, He’ll most certainly provide for His children (Matthew 6:25-33).

I thankfully rejoice in His provision and trust His promise to carry me the rest of my earthly life (Isaiah 46:4).

Immeasurably More

The day after I lost my job, I posted this status on Facebook:

“30+ years of continuous employment came to a halt yesterday when my job was eliminated. God obviously has something else for me to do. I can’t wait to see what it is!”

img_0495Even so, I couldn’t have imagined all God had in store for me. Two days after losing my job, I began the process of enrolling in the horticulture program at a local community college. Six months later, Joshua, my first grandchild, was born. Not only was he my study buddy, but, accompanied by my mom and my daughter Mary, he also attended my graduation ceremony the following year when I realized my dream of acquiring an Environmental Horticulture diploma.

105Granddaughters, Lyla and Emma, joined our family. I’m blessed to spend two days a week with them and big-brother Joshua. Earning my diploma and becoming a grandmother are bountiful blessings, but God has woven so much more into the past ten years. I volunteer at a local botanical garden, serve on our Women’s Ministry Committee, and am available to help my aging parents. I started this blog and published my first book.

I joyfully testify to God’s ability to do far more than all we ask or imagine (Ephesians 3:20).

Spiritual Amnesia

Even though the Lord’s mercies are new every morning and those of us who’ve walked with Him across many years have a treasure trove of examples of His faithfulness, when faced with adversity, we can sometimes forget His goodness. Thus God tells us to be intentional about remembering, calling to mind all we know about His character and recounting all He’s done for us, so spiritual amnesia doesn’t set in (Deuteronomy 4:9).

Someone on a podcast I listen to declared, “God’s never forsaken me, and today won’t be the first day He does.” I’ve since adopted her statement and remind myself when concerns begin to poke holes in the edges of my peace. If that doesn’t quiet my anxious thoughts, though, I hit play on the highlight reel of God’s goodness across ten years of “early retirement,” 23 years of widowhood, and a lifetime of Fatherly care (Psalm 9:1-2; Psalm 143:5).

How about you? Which scenes would you put on your Jesus-loves-me highlight reel?

Dear Lord, my heart swells with gratitude for all the ways You care for us. From friends who prayerfully and compassionately share our journey to daily provisions and over-and-above blessings, You pour out grace upon grace. Please help us to remember and rejoice.

[1] Please see “Purposeful Pondering” in Archives January 2019.

Through the Waters

But now thus says the Lord,
he who created you, O Jacob,
    he who formed you, O Israel:
“Fear not, for I have redeemed you;
    I have called you by name, you are mine.
 When you pass through the waters, I will be with you;
    and through the rivers, they shall not overwhelm you;
when you walk through fire you shall not be burned,
    and the flame shall not consume you.
 For I am the Lord your God,
    the Holy One of Israel, your Savior.”
Isaiah 43:1-3a

Hello, dear readers.  I know you’re not used to hearing from me this frequently, but I need to remind myself of a few things as this challenging year draws to a close, and I thought you might need a reminder as well.

Bad News

After months of staying out of the crosshairs of Covid-19, my daughter and son-in-law contracted the disease last week, sending me into self-quarantine and separation from my elderly parents. I’m thankful their cases have been mild and that none of the rest of us have developed symptoms so far.

But then, within the space of an hour yesterday, I received news that:

  • More members of the church I attend tested positive for Covid-19, while others had possibly been exposed to the virus, at church and elsewhere.
  • Cases of Covid-19 had popped up at the rehab facility where my friend’s mother is receiving care.
  • A longtime friend had been diagnosed with cancer.

I barely had time to process one communication before another reached me. The coronavirus isn’t a distant threat anymore. It’s affecting people in my everyday circles. And old enemies, like cancer, are still very much present.

As I mulled over the morning’s messages, a ditty from the old TV show Hee Haw came to mind. In Gloom, Despair, and Agony on Me, the comedians proclaimed, “If it weren’t for bad luck, I’d have no luck at all.” I tweaked the refrain: “If it weren’t for bad news, I’d have no news at all.” Unlike the minstrels of the catchy tune, I found no humor in the situations facing my friends and family. Concern for them furrowed my brow and troubled my thoughts.

Shifting Focus

I needed a spiritual pep talk, an attitude adjustment, a change of perspective. The shift began when a Facebook memory reminded me that yesterday marked the 10th anniversary of Mom’s emergency triple bypass surgery. I pondered the events of that day, how a catheterization two days after her heart attack revealed three life-threatening blockages. The images are still fresh all these years later: the nurses on either end of Mom’s bed who wouldn’t meet my gaze as we waited for the doctor to tell me the devastating news; the haste to prepare Mom for surgery; how our eyes locked lovingly for what I wondered might be the last time as they took her back to the operating room and the doors closed behind her.

Those ruminations led me to contemplate another health scare last spring at the same hospital after Mom developed a severe case of pneumonia. Late that night, when I left her with the emergency department’s capable caregivers, she was attached to all sorts of contraptions to help her breathe.  Once again, I parted company, not knowing if she’d be alive the next time I saw her.[1]

But she was. And she still is, blessing my life and that of many others, thanks be to God!

Sometimes the unexpected plot twists don’t end the way we would hope, though. On the evening of April 19, 1997, I received a phone call informing me my 39-year-old husband had been transported to the hospital by ambulance. My mind raced as I drove. Clenching the steering wheel, I prayed I’d find him alive. But I didn’t. Unbeknownst to me, we’d said our last goodbye hours earlier when he’d left for work.

Gains and losses. We can trust God to work them all together for good for those who love Him (Romans 8:28).

The Best News

This time last year, as we were getting ready to bid farewell to 2019 and welcome 2020, we had no idea what lay ahead – a pandemic, social unrest, political discord, personal challenges and triumphs of various sorts. The truth is, we don’t know what the next hour holds, much less the coming year. But, unlike my edited version of the old Hee Haw song, there is good news, the most excellent news: we belong to the One who does know, the One who ordains the end from the beginning (Isaiah 46:9-10). And He’s promised never to leave us or forsake us (Deuteronomy 31:8). That’s what we just celebrated last week – Immanuel, God with us.

I’ll close with two quotes I came across recently. I pray they’ll encourage you as they do me. As we enter a new year, may we endeavor to remind ourselves and each other daily of God’s steadfast love.

“God’s grace is sufficient, and his grace is specific. When it’s time to age, he gives aging grace. When it’s time to suffer, he gives suffering grace. When it was (my husband) Gene’s time to die, the Lord gave dying grace. And now he is giving me grieving grace.” Susan Hunt [2]

“And I said to the man who stood at the gate of the year:
‘Give me a light that I may tread safely into the unknown.’
And he replied:
‘Go out into the darkness and put your hand into the Hand of God.
That shall be to you better than light and safer than a known way.’” Minnie Louise Haskins[3]

Dear Lord, what a blessing to know that no matter how deep the waters or how hot the fiery trials we may face, we have nothing to fear because You’ve promised to be with us. Please help us to turn to You each day for the grace to meet our needs, knowing Your mercies are new every morning. Great is Your faithfulness!

[1] You can read about both of these experiences in more detail and find more encouraging verses in “Through the Night” and “Encourage One Another” in the May 2019 archives.

[2] Sharon W. Betters & Susan Hunt, Aging With Grace, Flourishing In An Anti-Aging Culture (Wheaton, IL: Crossway, 2021), 26.

[3] From Minnie Louise Haskins’ poem, God Knows, aka The Gate of the Year, written in 1908.

Count it all Joy

The following is an adaptation of the first post I published on Back 2 the Garden, July 1, 2014, with concluding comments pertinent to current events.

Count it all joy, my brothers, when you meet trials of various kinds, for you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance.  (James 1:2-3)

February 1998. Ten months earlier, my beloved husband, Ray, died of a heart attack a few weeks after his 39th birthday. Even though I was a rational person who could recount the details surrounding his death, I maintained a protective mantle of denial. How could my engaging, energetic mate go to work one sunny spring Saturday and never return home to me and our two young daughters? The reality dripped into my soul bit by bit and oozed through the cracks in my shield, creating an underlying pool of sadness that crept over its banks and flooded many of my days.

Joy? Not so much.

In preparing for Ray’s funeral, I wrote a letter for one of the pastors to read during the service. Among other things, I stated he’d not only left a lasting legacy in the lives of our daughters, but also in the beauty of our garden. Ray had a horticulture degree and though he didn’t shun common plants, he preferred to plant unique specimens in our yard. He told me about the special plants he selected and patiently taught me their names. I helped weed, water, and mow, but left landscape planning to him.

Several of Ray’s horticulture colleagues paid a visit and walked the garden with me after he died. Listening to them exclaim over first one plant and then another confirmed yet again the garden was an exceptional part of his legacy.

It became equally evident I needed to learn how to take care of it otherwise it would only be a matter of time before weeds overtook everything, much like sorrow entwined my thoughts.

And so that February day found me outside, bundled against the late-winter chill. I stooped to pull back the blanket of leaves shrouding the planting beds, my heart as numb as my fingers. I longed for Ray to be there, kneeling beside me shoulder-to-shoulder, to remove those leaves. Occasional tears watered the patch of soil where I labored.

IMG_5217I placed one handful of leaves after another into the big brown yard debris bag. Then, Wait! What’s that? I detected flecks of green amidst the weathered leaf litter. Perennials Ray planted were beginning to emerge from the soil. Seeing those tiny-but-determined plants sparked hope within me. If they could make it through the cold, stark winter, maybe I would survive my season of darkness.

I didn’t know it then, but I experienced my first session of garden therapy that day. And I caught a glimpse of the joy that comes from persevering, one of many lessons the Lord had prepared for me in His outdoor classroom.

Over 20 springs have come and gone since that late-February day. Some were short, giving way to the heat of southern summers by mid- May. Others teased us with early warmth, followed by killing frost. This year, we’ve been blessed by a long period of pleasant weather – more sun than showers, moderate temperatures perfect for nudging plants from their winter slumber.

Oh how we need the reminders of life and light as we continue to shelter in place, separate from friends and relatives, unsure how long the restrictions will remain. COVID-19 brought an end to everyday life as we knew it just as surely as Ray’s heart attack forever shattered what was normal for me and my daughters.

I’ve spent many hours in my garden in the past month, weeding, praying, digging, praying some more. And I’ve found the peace I’ve come to count on when I’m surrounded by evidence of God’s sustaining power, His love poured out in and on creation.

The Apostle Paul joined James in extolling the beneficial results of hardship when he wrote to the Roman believers, “We rejoice in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, and hope does not put us to shame” (Romans 5:3b-5a).

Hope. Hope that doesn’t put us to shame because it’s grounded in a Person, the One who endured His own suffering, even to the point of death on the cross, for us, securing hope for eternity.

23-years ago Ray left for work on a sun-drenched day much like today and the Lord called him Home. From the moment I first heard the news of his death until today, God has shown Himself to be faithful. I know I can trust Him to work all things together for good, whether trials are personal or pervasive (Romans 8:28).

Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us also lay aside every weight, and sin which clings so closely, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us, looking to Jesus, the founder and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is seated at the right hand of the throne of God (Hebrews 12:1-2).

Don’t Cry!

12-20-2013, Hi, Grammie 1I suppose I should begin with a confession: I’m an equal-opportunity crier. My eyes are just as likely to well up in moments of joy as in sorrow – while reading sweet sentiments in Hallmark cards, watching heartbreaking news stories, attending weddings or funerals, even when leading Bible study as the magnitude of God’s grace and mercy floods over me. Yes, from a barely-there trickle to gut-wrenching sobs, I’ve shed my share of tears and expect to shed plenty more.

A quick search on Google reveals three different types of tears. Basal tears keep our eyes lubricated, while reflex tears pop up in response to irritants like slicing onions or having a pesky gnat flit into your eye. And then there are psychic tears, those associated with our emotions, distinct from the other two in that they contain stress hormones.[1] No wonder we often feel better after shedding them. They’re like an overflow valve for the soul.

Even so, our attempts to comfort others are often accompanied by, “Don’t cry!”

The Bible has much to say about tears and the circumstances surrounding them. Consider for example:

  • Loss of a loved one by separation or death
    • David grieved the loss of his closer-than-a-brother friend, Jonathan, first from necessary distancing and then by death (1 Samuel 20:41; 2 Samuel 1:12).
    • Mary and Martha bemoaned Lazarus’ death. Seeing their bereavement, Jesus wept too, even though He knew his Father would hear his prayer to raise him. Jesus had compassion on the sisters in their time of loss and He has compassion on us as well (John 11:31-35).
    • Jesus’ followers were bereft and befuddled after His death in spite of the many times He’d told them what was to come (Luke 18:31-34; 36:13-49).
  • Disappointments of various sorts
    • Esau wept over the loss of his birthright, when he realized how his brother had tricked their father (Genesis 27:30-38).
    • Hannah’s unfulfilled desire for a child, exacerbated by her rival’s provocation and her husband’s lack of understanding, led to her fervent, tear-stained prayer for relief (1 Samuel 1:1-10)
  • Sorrow for sin
    • Three of the four Gospels recount Peter’s tear-punctuated dismay when Jesus’ statement that he’d betray Him came to pass (Matthew 26:75; Mark 14:72; Luke 22:62).
    • James says we should be wretched and mourn and weep over our transgressions, humbly drawing near to God for forgiveness and restoration (James 4:8-10).
  • Worship and Gratitude
    • The penitent woman who wet Jesus’ feet with her tears, wiped them with her hair, and anointed them with ointment was motivated by her love for her Savior.
  • Joyous reunion
    • Though bitterness marked their estrangement and Jacob feared the worst from Esau, the brothers’ reunion was accompanied by joyful tears (Genesis 33:4).
    • I’m taking some liberty here because none of the translations I consulted mention crying, but I’ve got to believe the prodigal son’s compassionate father had tears of elation streaming down his face as he ran to greet his returning son (Luke 15:20).

Even though these passages and others make it clear psychic tears are part of our God-given emotions, we’re quick to admonish, “Don’t cry!” Could it be others’ tears make us uncomfortable or tearful ourselves? Or worse, might we believe God’s children aren’t supposed to cry because we know the end of the story?

Mournful tears have dotted my days this past month. They sneak up on me as the reality of the COVID-19 pandemic breaks through my carefully-constructed mantle of Truth. Woven together from precious promises and reliable assurances found in Scripture it protects me from despair and hopelessness.[2] Nonetheless, people are hurting on a worldwide scale for myriad reasons. Closer to home, I miss seeing my children and grandchildren, worshiping in person with my covenant family. And so tears flow as I grieve the loss and brokenness.

The women who witnessed Jesus’ crucifixion no doubt wailed at the sight of their beloved son, teacher, friend, bloodied and beaten, being nailed to a Roman cross. The innocent One, put to death for the sins of others. Isaiah 53 is one of my most cherished passages, but also one which I can rarely get through without tears. Man of sorrows, acquainted with grief. Despised. Rejected. Wounded for our transgressions, crushed for our iniquities. My transgressions. My iniquities.

We are so blessed to live on this side of the Resurrection. No matter how dark the days or how great the losses, we know Jesus’ atoning sacrifice ensures our own resurrection and eternal security. Furthermore, as we go through difficulties in this life, we know He is seated at the right hand of God, interceding for us. Nothing can separate us from His love (Romans 8:31-39).

The One who keeps track of every tear (Psalm 56:8) has promised to return, to usher in a new heaven and a new earth, to wipe every tear from our eyes (Revelation 21:1-4). Until then, may we rejoice with those who rejoice and weep with those who weep, unafraid of our tears.

O Lord, how I thank You that You hear our cries for help. Though weeping may last through the night, joy comes with the morning (Psalm 30). You have shown your great mercy in sending Jesus to die for our sins and will turn our mourning into gladness. For we know this momentary affliction is preparing an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison (2 Corinthians 4:17). May we sing your praise forever!

 

[1] “What are the three different types of tears found in our eyes?”, http://www.sharecare.com

[2] Please see previous posts, “It is Well” and “Pollen Season”.

Pollen Season

I first noticed the yellow dusting atop my dark-blue CR-V. Then it appeared on my black mailbox. Yesterday I found it sprinkled across everything from leaves to walkway to my water bottle. What might the stealthy invader be? Pine pollen!

I usually grimace when I detect the initial signs of yellowness that descends on our area each spring, knowing what lies ahead. Depending on rainfall or lack thereof, the layer of pollen can become so thick tire tracks materialize on driveways and footprints on sidewalks. Some years I watch incredulously as windblown clouds drift off pines, destined to coat everything in their path. Nothing is immune from the intruder.

But this year the opening salvo made me smile. Because it reminded me God is keeping the covenant promise He made to Noah, his offspring, and every living creature. “While earth remains, seedtime and harvest, cold and heat, summer and winter, day and night, shall not cease.” (Genesis 8:22)

img_2910Last week, when I wrote “It is Well”, I figured everything that was going to suspend operations and activities had done so. Wrong! Notices of closings and cancellations continued to mount up, though at a slower pace. I found myself turning repeatedly to the passages I included in that post, truth to combat fear and quell anxious thoughts.

362I’ve also been outside more, strolling through my neighborhood, working in my garden. I’ve seen sidewalks chalked with cheerful messages. Encouraging posts fill my Facebook feed. And earlier today I joined my neighbors for a hymn sing as we gathered, socially-distanced, outside our piano-playing neighbor’s home. God is working difficult circumstances for good.  He always does. (Romans 8:28)

173In the midst of the uncertainty surrounding COVID-19, spring is here, full of hope and visible reminders of God’s goodness. I’ll let photos, scripture passages, and hymn lyrics do the talking for the rest of this post – my offering of praise to the One who lovingly sustains us, my contribution to the thread of encouragement weaving its way through social media.

248“Fairest Lord Jesus, Ruler of all nature, O Thou of God and man the Son; Thee will I cherish, Thee will I honor, Thou my soul’s glory, joy, and crown. Fair are the meadows, Fairer still the woodlands, Robed in the blooming garb of spring: Jesus is fairer, Jesus is purer, Who makes the woeful heart to sing.”[1]

342Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow: they neither toil nor spin, yet I tell you, even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these. (Matthew 6:28a-29)

The LORD is a stronghold for the oppressed, a stronghold in times of trouble. And those who know your name put their trust in you for you, O LORD, have not forsaken those who seek you. (Psalm 9:10)

047Why are you cast down, O my soul, and why are you in turmoil within me? Hope in God; for I shall again praise him, my salvation and my God. (Psalm 42:11)

Be merciful to me, O God, be merciful to me, for in you my soul takes refuge; in the shadow of your wings I will take refuge, till the storms of destruction pass by. (Psalm 57:1)

265“O Lord my God, when I in awesome wonder Consider all the words They hands have made, I see the stars, I hear the rolling thunder, Thy pow’r  throughout the universe displayed. When thro’ the woods and forest glades I wander And hear the birds sing sweetly in the trees, When I look down from lofty mountain grandeur, And hear the brook and feel the gentle breeze. Then sings my soul, my Saviour God, to Thee; How great Thou art, how great Thou art! Then sings my soul, my Savior God, to Thee: How great Thou art, how great Thou art!”[2]

351I will praise the name of God with a song; I will magnify him with thanksgiving . . . Let heaven and earth praise him, the seas and everything that moves in them. (Psalm 69:30, 34)

The heavens are yours; the earth also is yours; the world and all that is in it, you have founded them. (Psalm 89:11)

042“This is my Father’s world, And to my listening ears All nature sings, and round me rings The music of the spheres. This is my Father’s world: I rest me in the thought Of rocks and trees, of skies and seas – His hands the wonders wrought. This is my Father’s world, The birds their carols raise, The morning light, the lily white, Declare their Maker’s praise. This is my Father’s world: He shines in all that’s fair; In the rustling grass I hear Him pass, He speaks to me everywhere.”[3]

4-10-2014, The Pocket 5For you, O Lord, have made me glad by your work; at the works of your hands I sing for joy. (Psalm 92:4)

Make a joyful noise to the Lord, all the earth.  Serve the Lord with gladness! Come into his presence with singing! Know that the Lord, he is God! It is he who made us, and we are his; we are his people, and the sheep of his pasture. Enter his gates with thanksgiving, and his courts with praise! Give thanks to him; bless his name! For the Lord is good; his steadfast love endures forever, and his faithfulness to all generations. (Psalm 100)

Whom have I in heaven but you? And there is nothing on earth that I desire besides you. My flesh and my heart may fail, but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever . . . for me it is good to be near God; I have made the Lord God my refuge, that I may tell of all your works. (Psalm 73:25-26; 28)

[1] “Fairest Lord Jesus”, anonymous German Hymn, stanzas 1 and 2.

[2] “How Great Thou Art”, stanzas 1 and 2 and chorus; Stuart K. Hine, 1953.

[3] “This is My Father’s World”, stanzas 1 and 2; Maltbie D. Babcock.

It is Well

Last week, a friend posted he needed a villain worthy of the heroine in the novel he’s working on. Not any villain would do since the heroine is possibly the best he’s ever created. I almost commented, “How about a villainous virus?” In light of all that’s transpired in the days-that-seem-like-weeks since, I’m glad I didn’t share my attempt at humor.

Preventive measures ramped up quickly, as it became apparent the coronavirus spreads exponentially.  The avalanche of precautionary decisions wiped out rights-of-spring sporting events like March Madness and the Masters, closed schools for the foreseeable future, and led to the cancellation of myriad other events. Our governor declared a healthcare state of emergency, a first in the history of Georgia.

And, just like that, normal as we knew it disappeared.

As the dominoes kept falling, an underlying sense of sadness crept into my soul. I’d felt it before, in the wake of 9/11, when our nation came to a standstill, dazed by the vicious attack. Fear and uncertainty veiled our country then as it does now. Activities and freedoms so integral to our national psyche that they’re taken for granted, ground to a halt. No telling how long the threat might last or what kind of havoc it will wreak in the meantime.

A different perspective

Scripture refers to us as dust and grass, finite creatures, yet precious to the Creator who has great compassion for us (Psalm 103:13-16). He understands our fears and frailties and encourages us to keep our eyes fixed on things above, eternal things, for what is seen is temporary (2 Corinthians 4:18).

No stranger to sudden changes and unexpected loss, I’ve turned repeatedly to those unseen things this week, finding consolation and reassurance as I have in the past. In that spirit, I offer the following somewhat-random observations, not to be dismissive of anyone’s concerns, but as a reminder of our Father’s loving oversight. I pray one or more of these analogies and assurances will comfort your heart as they’ve been comforting mine:

  • No frenzied rush to the grocery store for me. I didn’t need much anyway and stuck to my usual grocery-buying schedule. Almost-bare shelves greeted me in nearly every aisle and there was no loaf bread or milk to be found. So much for my measured approach. Back at home unloading the meager provisions I managed to procure, I remembered Jesus’ references to Himself as the Bread of Life and the Spring of living water (John 6:35; John 4:10; 13-14). We have a Source of spiritual sustenance and refreshment that will never be depleted.
  • Last week’s stock market volatility was enough to make even the most ardent thrill-seeker queasy. But we’re told to store up treasures in heaven, out of reach of earthly threats (Matthew 6:19-21). Furthermore, we have an eternal inheritance, guaranteed by the Holy Spirit (Ephesians 1:14) and the immeasurable riches of God’s grace toward us in Jesus (Ephesians 2:7).
  • I frequently gaze out my kitchen windows at the birds flocked around the various feeders I provide for them. Watching them the other day, I thought how carefree they seemed, going about their bird business – finding mates, building nests, eating copious amounts of seed –  oblivious to COVID-19. img_2837Similar thoughts accompanied me as I strolled my woods exclaiming over the latest plant finds. Jesus’ declaration that we need not worry because the God who cares for the birds and the lilies will watch over His beloved children, who are much more precious, is among my most cherished (Matthew 6:25-34). It’s also one of the reasons I find so much solace in my garden since I see the truth of His statement played out repeatedly.
  • img_2754You may argue that the birds and flowers aren’t capable of worrying since they don’t know what we know or reason as we reason. But God says the same about us. Even though we’re created in His image, His ways and His thoughts are higher than ours, beyond our finite minds (Isaiah 55:8-9). He is Sovereign. We aren’t. And it often takes events that are obviously out of our control to remind us, even though every breath we take is a gift from God.
  • Satan is the arch-villain who came to kill, steal, and destroy. But Jesus, the Good Shepherd, laid down His life for the sheep that they may have life and have it abundantly (John 10:10-11). No matter what befalls us, our eternal destiny is secure. No one can snatch us out of the Father’s hand and nothing can separate us from His love (John 10:29; Romans 8:38-39).

As we go through these next days and weeks, may we rest in all we know about God’s character, His goodness and mercy toward all His creatures.

Father, how I thank You for your lovingkindness and sufficient grace which allow us to say, “It is well with my soul”, regardless of our circumstances. You are our refuge and strength, an ever-present help in trouble. We have nothing to fear.