It was a sober moment. Six children gathered as their grandfather fought the battle of his life and would soon lose it to his cancer.
It was late afternoon, sun warmed chilled air, I can’t remember the season, only children who soon would know the pains of ugly grief.
It was then my young son adapted the tune above; wiggling and waddling as he sang; soon all the kids followed lined up in a row. Joy came in midst of grief.
So whether you eat or drink or whatever you do, do it all to the glory of God
I Corinthians 10:31
Idiom: have / get one’s ducks in a row • get well prepared or organized for something that’s going to happen
During yesterday’s early, foggy walk I saw a string of turkeys waltzing down the road. This growing family continued cruising down the middle like a car would, until I drew neater to them. Finally they headed to the corn field where breakfast awaited them. The event had me considering certain phrases we use in our conversation with others. I thought of “get your ducks in a row” and wondered of it’s origin.
The most popular idea, from the phrase “get your ducks in a row”, was that it came from the world of bowling. I had to laugh. I would have thought it was from hunting fowl. Early bowling pins were often shorter and thicker than modern pins. They were named duck pins and would be manually set in place between bowling rounds. The bowling pins needed to be organized in their proper place before the next bowler. Therefore, organize the pins for the next person.
What are your plans for the week? Are your ducks, or should I say turkeys, all in a row? Does part of that planning include things God wants you to do? Whatever we do should be for His glory.
Trust in the Lord with all your heart and do not lean on your own understanding. In all your ways acknowledge Him. And He will math your paths straight.
Proverbs 3:5-6
Recently, I was reminded that no one knows what tomorrow will bring. We can plan, pray and put into action the details of the days to come, but it is only God who directs our paths.
As summer comes to an end, my husband and I have just a few more free days with the grandkids. Last Friday, was one of them. What to do? What haven’t we done? Why not a Pike Lake picnic?
Pack the beach tent, chairs, towels, food, food, food, sand toys with building materials the night before. It’s gonna be great! Surf and sand; along with someone fishing (Barry). Friday morning comes and it’s not even 60 degrees out. OUCH!
Well, we made the best of the morning, but needed to add jackets to the mix. We can loosely planned the future. However, God is the only One who knows the details.
This week is my church’s VBS. Somewhere between 60-100 children will travel through our little church. We have a great curriculum, a wonderful staff and decorations dangle from everywhere. Prayer has been bathed over the event. All is ready, but only God knows the fruit it will bring.
I was challenged to read the book of Lamentations this week and I don’t remember reading it through at one time. I never thought it to be a “go-to-book” in the Bible like Genesis, Psalms, Proverbs or the New Testament are to me. I soon realized the wealth of this book.
It is a book of great lament and suffering, but the reason for the nation’s pain was because of their sins towards God. Chapter one starts with, “How lonely is the city which was once filled with people”. Destruction came to Jerusalem because they rejected God.
Lamentations comes after the book of Jeremiah. It’s almost a poetic continuation by Jeremiah of a people who rejected God. Although Jeremiah was a godly prophet, he too was caught up in the suffering and demise of Jerusalem. Many of the verses are unpleasant and are a reminder of a holy God who also judges and restores.
My greatest surprise was this passage, “Through the Lord’s mercies we are not consumed, Because His compassions fail not. They are new every morning; Great is Your faithfulness.” (3:22-23)
Whatever you are facing this week God can be there for you. Don’t go your own way or reject Him, but accept His tender mercies.
The bird also has found a house, and the swallow a nest for herself, where she may put her young: Your alters, LORD of armies, my King and my God. Blessed are those who dwell in Your house! They are ever praising You.
Psalm 84:3-4
Little One of spring’s rebirth, friend of songwriter and poet, fills still air with melodious song; it’s mid-summer yet your nest is filled with opened mouths to feed. Another late blush to fledge.
You’re silent as your daily duties fill long minutes in nurturing young. I thought you long departed on heated morning, summer breeze. My brown buddy now perched on woody twig; stately sentinel scene.
What joy that fills this waiting heart to know you linger long. Churrs and rattles, a lively song, my little wren so bold and strong. The chatter in the nesting box brings hope of springs to come.
Dusty roads are paved with good intentions, weary travelers seek a glimpse of freedom; from day-in and day-out responsibilities. Yet, in the midst of travel does one see the common things which light our way? Or is it the spectacular that is sought?
Periwinkle blue chicory line the roadside as sleek crickets prepare their summer encore using stringed instruments galore! The air is filled with scents of weedy wonder enhance the upcoming performance early on. Fall is around the corner, winking an eye.
Multiple petals build chicory’s flower head, layered with a fine tooth-combed edge; sturdy on woody stem as cars wiz by. They watch busy travelers passing quickly all the time wondering why their charm is ignored as summer’s sunny day slips by.
I think the brilliant blue chicory is lovely lining the country roadside, as summer begins to blush, bringing a burst of color to an otherwise dreary gravel shoulder. Sometimes the simple things in our day can bring the greatest elements of joy.
… that you are to be renewed in the spirit of your minds, and to put on the new self, which in the likeness of God has been created in righteousness and holiness of the truth.
Ephesians 4:23-24
Sometimes it’s the little things in life which bring the most pleasure. I was watering the flower garden when I made a discovery. All summer I had been waiting to collect caterpillars off the wild milkweed growing in my flower bed. Week after week went by, with no caterpillar discovery. Then almost by accident, I saw them. Really, it was exciting. I can hardly wait to share them with my grandkids.
What’s so exciting about a monarch caterpillar?
Perhaps, it’s the memories of when my boys collected them in a ten gallon fish tank as children. One year, they raised several in their makeshift habitat. Or maybe it’s one of the miracles God has blessed us with from His creation. Perhaps, it’s the reminder that change can happen to anyone willing to allow the process. Or maybe it’s all the above.
Raising a monarch caterpillar is no easy task. Daily milkweed leaves need to be collected for their feeding needs. For weeks, the small caterpillars nibble and grow. Waiting is a constant element during the process. Then one day, their eating habits are over and it’s time for rest. More waiting. Another few weeks go by as they hang and I wait. Finally, the chrysalis begins to turn a smoky grey. Now, it’ll only be a few days before the birth of a monarch butterfly!
It wasn’t until a year ago I actually saw the transformation happen of the butterfly breaking through their confinement and slowly unfurling its wings to dry. I usually miss it by minutes. I guess I’m not good at waiting. The work isn’t finished yet. A few fresh flowers in the bug box and a small saucer of sugar water will help the butterfly grow in strength. Then it’s off with the lid and finally freedom.
I think spiritual change is so much more fulfilling to watch than even the monarch butterfly. Especially, in the life of a young believer who for the first time sees the truth regarding why Jesus surrendered His life for mankind. I know there are those who are unable to grasp the simplicity of Someone willing to take on the sin of the world, but it happened and is available for any to receive.
Change isn’t always easy. Just ask the monarch butterfly.
The life of every living thing is in His hand, as well as the breath of all mankind.
Job 12:10
I’m all for living at one with nature. I need to be, since I reside in the country. Most of the time it’s a place of solitude.
We had a den of foxes this spring. Three pups and a mom with a white tipped tail. A few years ago, they made my backyard their home right next to the play area. To say the least I was not happy. The following year the same thing happened. Watching their antics was delightful, but concern over the grandkids won out. We blocked the den opening, sprayed pest control and prayed they wouldn’t return the next year. They didn’t, but found a new home down the driveway.
My property is the tick magnet for miles around. Forest coverage and two marshes encourage deer to hangout. I should put up a sign, “No Cruising”. Yes, twin fawns were cute a few years back, but the ticks are overwhelming. I even pick them up in March while snow blankets the ground. The hunter comes in fall and by spring we are invaded again by a new generation of deer.
So what’s my problem?
I really don’t want to walk down the driveway staring at a bold fox who has dropped off carrion in eighty degree weather twenty feet from where I’m standing. The smell is gross. Plus, it’s annoying when fox decides to jump out of the front yard proceeding to drive my dog nuts. Or should I need to carry a hiking stick on my way to the mail box as a young buck hisses and grunts at me for walking on my property? But I know it could get worse. Bear sights have been made a mile away. I wonder what size ticks they care.
Living in the country, five miles from town, one would never think a habitat could be shared with so many mammals. Got to go. There’s that groundhog munching in my garden! What’s in your backyard?
I meandered down a country road, the sun perched through the evergreens. My pup and I just on our morning walk, but today we were stalked; wind whistled in forest and mosquitoes buzzed about.
I stopped, not knowing what to do. It’s not everyday one is face to face with a young buck’s grace, just staring. I pulled up all my courage, talked sweetly then passed by the fellow bigger than I.
I pondered long as we continue our early trek of why this young buck stood to glaze? Maybe he was in a sullen haze or stood for us to catch his sturdy, steady stance. My dog just sniffed, we see deer most days.
Patti Wolf 