I make my way to the kitchen where my trusty coffee pot awaits. I pour the water, scoop the grounds, they remind me of dirt. You’d think I was planning to grow something, maybe some courage for the day.
The coffee pot pours the warm water over the grounds and almost magically a warm, golden brown liquid trickles into the warm glass pot. The coffee pot beeps, signaling that the coffee is ready and waiting.
It’s still dark, my brain still fuzzy from sleep as I hold my cup close and take my first drink. Warm liquid energy warms me, wakes me and sooths me all in one. Simple comfort found in the cup.
Lord, as I hold my cup and snuggle in with You this morning, I realize that you are my refuge. Apart from You I do not have one good thing, but with You all things are working for my good. Lord, You are my portion and my cup, no matter what today holds, in You I am secure. I find my courage in You this morning, You counsel me, and instruct my heart. Help me to keep my eyes always on You.
Memorial weekend is always the weekend our garden goes in. The manure was spread months ago, next the tilling of the soil. I love fresh tilled soil it is so dark and rich as it awaits planting day.
We have selected our plants, every year we try something new, this year it’s brussel sprouts. We map out the plan and then it’s time for the seeds and plants to go in. There is something sacred about having your hands in the dirt of the Earth. We watch amazed as tiny seeds and fragile starter plants quickly take root and grow strong in the fertile soil.
At first the garden looks perfect, not a weed in sight, and the new plants are standing up strong and tall in the rich dark soil. We go to great lengths to protect them, making sure they have enough water, hoping for enough sunshine and covering them when a late frost comes.
By mid-summer the plants are four times their size and the hope of fruit is beginning to show itself. It is also a time when a battle begins, the battle against the weeds who want to choke the life out of our precious plants. Weeds do not need cared for or protected and they seem to thrive in any condition.
We weed, we water, and we protect. The long-awaited day arrives, the day of the first fruit, and this begins the steady flow of good things from the garden.
For if the first fruit is holy, the lump is also holy; and if the root is holy, so are the branches. Romans 11:16
Oh Lord, that I will be holy as You are holy.
I am a bed maker, it brings peace and order to my day. Sheets tucked tight, quilt even on each side, a soft stack of pillows. My bed has served me well, it has given me peaceful rest, served as a refuge, felt my tears, heard my laughter, known my dreams, my nightmares and has been witness to many prayers.
There are days I forget to make my bed, or simply run out of time in the morning. As evening comes around and sleep begins to call, I’m sad to find it messy and crumpled.
Call me crazy or OCD, but the truth is I take a few minutes to tuck those sheets tight, square up that quilt, then turn it down and slide in for the night. It is the place where I am still.
Father, I thank You for this small rectangle I call my bed. It is warm, clean safe and the one place where I can be still.
As I wake each morning, it is the pace where my first thoughts are forming. Help my first thoughts to set on the truth that You Are God.
You will be exalted over all the Earth and heavenly hosts are at Your command. You are my safe place and I need not fear as the sunrises on a new day.