There are days

Today is one of them.  I wish I could just stay in bed all day. The body’s duties don’t allow that much sleep. And the older we get the more aches and pains tell us it’s time to get moving.  Monday…

The last month has been a mountain trail ride. Just when there is a beautiful view to stop and ponder, the horse takes a dump and the smell and flies demand get-up and go.  I know nothing about trail rides or horse riding for that matter. It just seems like the best analogy.  We attempted to enable good behavior in our stubborn little double swear word doggie of four years.  (Bochum fries and ship tzu are so difficult to pronounce.) But it seemed everything I attempted for his aid, well, he refused to reform. The aggression seemed to escalate until I feared for my fingers and my face. There seemed to be no end to his deviant behavior.  The last week he took to using my shower as a territorial marking point. I had enough.  The stress was coloring my days with the murkiest  of watercolors.  I don’t think anyone liked my complaints anymore than I liked my dog.  I couldn’t believe the cute little puppy could get any worse. Then it did. So we said goodbye to the “Waldo-era”.”


Pause.

Now that we could breath in our own home again it was time to enjoy the spring celebratin with the greenhouse. 

How can I ever explain just how happy I am to have our geodesic building?  Forty people came for our Celebrate Spring day.  The radishes were finally up, and the weather was so beautiful. I have one picture from the day. 

Thanks to my sister-in-law for sharing. I have learned that with my eyesight it is better to just focus on the here and now rather than try to capture the moment with pictures.  The camera often puts a wall between the subject and the bearer.  It’s easier to be with others when nothing puts distance between us 

I have my cousins visit the following day to cherish And I have the memories of the chalk drawings. It reminds me of a Bibe passage.  

“This they said to test him, that they might have some charge to bring against him. Jesus bent down and wrote with his finger on the ground.” ‭‭John‬ ‭8:6‬ ‭ESV‬‬ http://bible.com/59/jhn.8.6.esv

So many role get hung on guessing what Jesus wrote in the sand, but I like to focused on another point.  First he used his finger…

When I plant the seeds in the dirt sometimes I draw a line with my finger.  It soon gets covered back with dirt and the line disappears into the seeds immerse.  That initial line be it ever so crooked is the visible until the plants are harvested. His finger. What things do we do with our fingers? I am such a tactile person, my fingers are always busy. Being still with my hands is a challenge. His finger…  he wrote the Ten Commandments on stone. I made a brick patio with gloves on and the stone put holes in the gloves. I couldn’t write with my finger into stone. The closest tool I have is chalk. 

Chalk disappeared. 

With His finger.

God’s fingerprint is on every person. “So God created man in his own image, in the image of God he created him; male and female he created them.” ‭‭Genesis‬ ‭1:27‬ ‭ESV‬‬ http://bible.com/59/gen.1.27.esv

Theology and biology are very big topics and whether agreement exists between the two has been debated for much time. I choose to simply believe that His finger is on my life and He knew me before I knew Him. I see His fingerprint on all of creation and that is why I find so much joy in watching things grow. The Psalms declare over and over how creation tells of Gods glory .  

Each signature on the back of the greenhouse told the personality of each name. I took pictures of the signings.  It’s like fingerprint of Hod in each plant. I can look at those written words and see the image of each person. I look at each person and see the image of  a vast and expansive personality of eternal God. He is so creative!

As my shepherd bids me to not want, I must focus all of my attention in His provision of the moment.  Sometimes I want. I look at what I do not have.  Then I want.  I even look at what I do have and want something different.  Bother for the “wanton child that I am.”  

Then there is the voice of the Shepherd, telling me gently to eat what has been set before me. I shall not want-for the Lord is my Shepherd.