Showing posts with label love. Show all posts
Showing posts with label love. Show all posts

Saturday, February 14, 2009

Garden Encounters

Internet Cafe Chat


Tell one specific time in your life that you were overwhelmed with God's love for you.

Do you need a little breath of summer today? The first thing that came to mind when I considered this thought is how overwhelmed I am with God's love when I am working in my garden. On one such day I penned the following poem...nothing heavy, just a breath of fresh summer air.


Garden Encounters

I strolled barefoot to my garden.
Grass tickled between my toes.
Dewdrops sprinkled ‘round my ankles.
Gnats buzzed boldly up my nose.

As I neared, the rhubarb rustled.
Purr-sy scampered into view.
Frightened robins all a-flutter
chided loudly as they flew.

Near the lettuce, still and silent
save her twitching nose and ear
rabbit paused, then darted quickly
guided wildly by her fear.

Running past, a squirrel took notice,
then proceeded up a tree
where he sat and scolded mildly,
eyeing both my cat and me.

I began by cutting spinach.
Next I felt for bulging peas.
Crunchy, sweet, a few sustained me
as I picked them on my knees.

From the pond a splashing clamor
shook me from my reverie.
Drake was romancing his darling
quacking, splattering noisily.

Soon their noise disturbed the gander
guarding o’er his nesting goose.
Cantankerous, he honked a warning,
flailing wings outstretched and loose.

Smiling, I returned to labor
senses flooded, heart released,
and my praise began as humming.
As it grew, volume increased.

In the breeze cool and refreshing
Jesus whispered in my ear,
“I’ve been waiting all this morning.
I’m so glad you found me here.”

So from there our chat proceeded
up and down six rows of beans
as methodically I weeded
through my worries, hopes and dreams.

Straightening, I surveyed with wonder
all my Father had bestowed.
Surprise! Atop my pile of produce
perched a gray and wrinkled toad.

“Shoo,” I said, and gently nudged him
‘till into the grass he hopped.
Quickly I picked up my treasures,
although once again I stopped.

From beneath the tall potatoes
something gave my foot a tap.
Mice-tro lazily stretched and pawed me,
waking from his long cat-nap.

To the house I then retreated,
cats frolicking in my way.
By my sweetheart I was greeted,
quizzing me about my day.

Viewing me smudged and disheveled,
sympathizing with his tone,
he remarked, “You worked for hours—
Too bad you had to work alone.”

--Sharlyn Guthrie

Friday, January 2, 2009

Claire Bear


She’s only eight months old. Still, I hear her chanting, “equal time, Grandma, equal time!” Not really, although she’s already trying to keep up with her brother Noah in so many other ways.

Claire Carleta Guthrie created quite a stir when she came into this family of boys last April. The males in the family, including her dad, still don’t quite know what to make of her. She’s dainty and delicate, but she’s also strong and opinionated. Her voice is soft, yet commanding. At eight months she already pulls herself up onto her sturdy little legs and walks confidently behind the new dolly and stroller she got for Christmas.

Tristan, her daddy, has composed a little song for her. If you happen to be holding her when he begins to sing, you’d better hold on tight. She will squirm, snap her little head around, and do everything in her power to make eye contact with him. The song goes like this, “Claire bear. Cla-ire Bear. Most beautiful girl in the world. Claire bear. Cla-ire bear. I…love…you!”

About the time he sings, “most beautiful girl,” Claire breaks into a dazzling smile. By the time he gets to “I…love…you,” she is kicking, wriggling, and giggling all over. It never fails to work, even if she was previously fussing.

I think Claire is very blessed to have a daddy that so freely and unashamedly expresses his love for her. Certainly, not every little girl does, and Claire has never known it any other way.

I’m also reminded of the many ways my Heavenly Father attempts to catch my attention, reassuring me of His love throughout each and every day. Do I respond as eagerly as Claire responds to her daddy? Do I immediately seek His face and light up in His presence? I’m afraid that all too often I take His gestures of love…a beautiful sunrise, the smell of coffee, fresh air and unhampered breaths, the music of the birds…for granted.

Father, “Let the morning bring me word of your unfailing love, for I have put my trust in you.” (Psalm 143:8) NIV