One Tiny Tender Shoot

One Tiny Tender Shoot

From barren soil, drought-stricken, parched
one tiny tender Shoot appeared.
So plain and homely was its form
it was not welcomed nor revered
where men in sullen shadows marched.

Abundant sorrow shame and grief
bent the Sprout low to the ground,
so smitten and afflicted here
that even God most surely frowned,
making its earthly visit brief.

I saw through eyes blind and diseased;
I saw, and yet assumed the worst:
Death was the end –His just reward,
but of the dead He was the first
to end its curse, and God was pleased!

Abundant love coursed through His veins,
abundant pardon, mercy, grace
gushed from violent gaping wounds,
compassion dripping from His face;
Only His righteousness remains.

Broken and bathed in Jesus’ blood
my sins are gone, my sight restored!
The Bud, once stricken, scorned, despised
now stately, treasured, and adored;
once-thirsty soil quenched by the flood.

Abundant life and joy and peace
sustain my spirit, soul and mind!
I feast on Him, my daily bread,
And drink His water, milk, and wine…
abundant gifts that never cease!

~Sharlyn Guthrie
(Based on Isaiah 53 and 55:1)

One Day's Worth of Love

"Be kindly affectioned one to another
with brotherly love;
in honour preferring one another." Romans 12:10 (KJV)

Two year old Claire and five year old Noah have had their share of spats lately. I am amazed at how competitive they are, especially considering their age and gender differences. What starts as taunting can soon erupt into all-out war.

Their mom and dad have very specific consequences for unkind behavior:

Hitting or pushing = time out, facing the wall
Taking toys away = loss of the privilege of playing with that toy
Teasing or aggravating = separation from each other (-interesting that this works!)
Using unkind words = say something kind/loving

Saturday evening I helped with crafts at a family Valentine party held at our church. The children made valentines for a family member or friend, then enclosed a customized “coupon” as a gift. I explained all of this to Noah, who had just finished making a valentine for Mom and Dad. He then sat pondering what to write on his coupon. Finally, he wrote, “I will love Claire for…”

“Oh, that’s a good one, Noah. Are you going to love her for one whole week?”

“A year!” he exclaimed, but quickly changed his mind, “…or maybe a day.”

Along with the other adults in the craft room I tried to stifle my snickers.

In the end his coupon read, “I will love Claire for 1 day.”

I admire Noah’s childish honesty, knowing that even one day is no small commitment. Sure, a day doesn’t sound like much when compared to the week I suggested, or to Noah’s grand aspirations of a year, but I’m guessing that keeping that promise for an entire day will be mighty tough!

“Be kindly affectioned to one another with brotherly love; in honor preferring one another.” This is no mushy Valentine sentiment, but a command concerning our brothers and sisters in Christ. In fact, John 13:35 says that this is how others will know that we are Christians -by the love we show toward one another.

If I am honest I must admit, like Noah, that I struggle in this area. I am not always as patient or tenderhearted with my brothers and sisters in Christ as I should be. I sometimes insist on my own way, and I don’t always share. I can say hurtful things, sometimes in the form of gossip...and the list goes on.


I think I will borrow Noah’s idea and write my Father a Valentine coupon:

VALENTINE COUPON To: My Father God
Redeemable For: loving my brothers and sisters for 1 day
Note #1: Coupon may be redeemed as often as needed
Note #2: I can't do this without your help!
Signed: Your child, Sharlyn

Yvonne is hosting Monday Manna today at My Back Door.

The Picture of George and Ruby

I chose to share this true story for Fiction Friday today because Valentines Day is drawing near, and this is a love story of sorts. It was only my second entry in the Faithwriters writing challenge in April, 2006! I hope you enjoy it.

The Picture of George and Ruby
by Sharlyn Guthrie

Willard and George were admitted to the nursing home as roommates on the same day. I was there, finding just the right spot for Willard’s lift chair, labeling his clothing, and seeing to it that he was as comfortable as possible, because Willard is my father. While moving to a nursing home is never easy, spending the past month in the hospital was worse, so with resignation my father began to familiarize himself with his new surroundings and with his roommate, George.

Almost immediately we discovered that the two roommates shared a liking for talk-radio programs. Relieved that this pastime would be equally enjoyed by both men, we began seeking other commonalities. George lifted a large tattered Bible from his nightstand. Grinning, my father pulled his own well-worn Bible from the bag I was unpacking. I smiled, breathing a prayer of thanksgiving for the Lord’s provision in these smallest of details.

The conversation turned to family, and we learned that both men raised only daughters, no sons. My father’s eyes welled up with tears as he told George about Bernice, his wife of sixty years who had passed away just nine months earlier. George expressed his condolences, but then his eyes brightened. His wife, Ruby lived here in the same nursing home! George explained that she needed more care than he, so she was in a special room down the hall. He used to come and visit her every day, but for several months now he had been unable to drive, so his visits had been less frequent. He seemed elated that he would again be seeing her daily.

At dinner time I watched amused, as George and Willard shuffled off to the dining room, walkers extended in front of them. I observed their matching height and slight build, and noted that each of them wore a plaid flannel shirt. George fastened his belt high above the small paunch of his stomach, while Willard avoided the belt problem altogether by wearing overalls. They made quite a pair! Again I thanked God for so quickly providing my father with a companion.

George and Willard continued to enjoy each others’ company, but the indelible vision I have of George was witnessed by my husband and I one evening as we passed through the large sitting area on our way to visit Willard. My husband tapped my arm and pointed across the way.

On this particular evening George was seated in an armchair wearing a white shirt, with his black slacks characteristically pulled up under his armpits. His thin, unruly hair had been slicked back along the sides of his head. His normally gray, sunken eyes sparkled and a gentle smile warmed his opaque face. For next to him sat Ruby.

Ruby, wrinkled and disheveled, dressed in pajamas and a floral duster, had been positioned and tied into a tall straight-back chair with wheels and a tray. Her head drooped onto her chest, and her eyes were closed, drool coursing down her chin. It’s doubtful that she knew George was beside her. But George beamed, reaching up to hold her fragile hand in his, exulting in the presence of his beloved Ruby.

My husband and I reverently paused to take in the sight, and then continued down the hallway. It’s a sight we will never forget. Though we have attended countless weddings and anniversary parties, listened to hundreds of love songs, and watched dozens of romantic movies, the picture that best captures the essence of enduring love is a picture now seared in our memory …the picture of George and Ruby.













Thanks for stopping by! Joanne is hosting Fiction Friday today at
An Open Book. Please visit her blog to link to more great fiction.