I lift up my eyes to the hills. From where does my help come? My help comes from the Lord, who made heaven and earth.
Psalm 121:1-2
The Long-lost Rug
This time 50 years ago, my parents and I were living in Argentina. Dad was working for a subsidiary of his US employer, and Mom and I were along for the 2-year adventure. We made use of school holidays to travel around Argentina and to other Latin American countries. And, as most tourists are wont to do, we accumulated plenty of souvenirs. One of our favorites was a llama-skin rug that depicted a woman tending one of the furry pack animals.
Mom and Dad used it as a wall-hanging when we returned to the States, and then at some point, my husband and I took possession of it. The rug hung on our wall for a while, but there was no place for it when we moved from Delaware to Georgia, so we returned it to my parents.
Then somehow, it disappeared.
Occasionally the rug would come up in conversation, and we’d muse, “Whatever happened to it?” Some good-natured banter would follow the question:
“I think you have it.”
“No, I’m pretty sure I gave it back to you.”
“Well, wherever it is, we haven’t seen it for years!”
So it went until one day last month when I was searching for something in my late mother’s closet. I looked up, and there it was, neatly folded on the top shelf! I’m not sure why Mom tucked it away in there with her clothes, but I felt like I’d found a long-lost treasure and couldn’t wait to tell my family about the discovery.
The Dark Hole is Real
I don’t know about you, but it seems like at least once a week, I or someone else in my family will bemoan the fact we’ve misplaced something. Sometimes we’ll find the missing item in relatively short order. Then again, there are times when objects remain lost for weeks, months, or even years, like the llama rug. We refer to this as “the dark hole syndrome,” as in “the dark hole ate it.”
A few days after locating the rug, I began helping my dad prepare to move into assisted living. His new apartment has a small porch that is still big enough to accommodate two of his deck chairs. I offered to get some cushions to make the metal seats more comfortable. Dad replied that he already had some, and we proceeded to hunt for them.
We searched in all the logical places – in the basement where he kept the patio set, in the garage, in the storage area tucked under the stairs – all to no avail.
“Chalk up another one for the dark hole,” Dad sighed.
I’ve made almost-daily trips between Dad’s house and his apartment, picking up necessities as well as niceties he forgot to include in the initial transport of stuff. I was standing in his closet, talking to him on the phone as he gave me instructions about where to find that day’s requested item. I looked up and started laughing.
“Guess what I just found!”
“What?”
“The chair cushions!!”
“Where?!”
“On the top shelf in your closet! I need to start looking up more instead of straight ahead all the time.”
A Spiritual Parallel
The words had barely left my mouth when a spiritual application occurred to me. Too often, when faced with a challenging situation, I focus on the dilemma in front of me. Instead of taking a Biblical perspective, I become mired in the what-ifs and oh-nos. The dark hole of doubt swallows up what I know to be true about God as surely as my family’s fictional dark hole occasionally devours objects.
But when I look up, I remember I’m not alone. My help comes from the Lord, the very Maker of heaven and earth (Psalm121:1-2).
Furthermore, the Spirit gently reminds me of the truth found in the Apostle Paul’s second letter to the Corinthians:
So we do not lose heart. Though our outer self is wasting away, our inner self is being renewed day by day. For this light momentary affliction is preparing for us an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison, as we look not to the things that are seen but to the things that are unseen. For the things that are seen are transient, but the things that are unseen are eternal (2 Corinthians 4:16-18).
The things pressing in on me will soon pass, whereas those currently hidden or out of focus will become clear and constant (1 Corinthians 13:12). God’s promises and assurances are always there, ready to be seen by enlightened eyes of faith if we’ll simply look up.
Dear Lord, please enlighten the eyes of our hearts that we may know the hope you’ve called us to, the glorious riches of our inheritance in Christ, and the immeasurable greatness of Your power toward us who believe (Ephesians 1:18-19).





Even 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.
Granddaughters, 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 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 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.
Last 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.
I’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)
In 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.
“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.”
Consider 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)
Why 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)
“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!”
I 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)
“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.”
For you, O Lord, have made me glad by your work; at the works of your hands I sing for joy. (Psalm 92:4)