Things Are Going Well

It was squally, complements of Debby. If you live in Florida, you  know that means the wind is gusty, and the rain blows sideways, first one direction, then another. The intensity varies. I was driving to the bank when a red PT Cruiser passed me on the right. I read the bumper sticker in the middle of the back window, "If something can go well, it will." I'm not sure if it was because of the meditative music I was listening to or the fact that I had just been talking to God, but the refreshingly positive bumper sticker lifted my spirits higher. It reminded me of Mama's voice saying, "Think lovely thoughts." That directly correlates with faith. I feel so positively about it that I am not going to even mention the counter position. It gets far too much press already. Enjoy the day!

For in Him, everyone of God's promises is a "Yes." 2 Corinthians 1:20

Peace. Love, Linda

Cicadas

The cicadas hum  rises and falls in the oaks, and a lonely mourning dove coo coo coos in the distance. I'm still, and the sound takes me back to a country road in Southern Ohio. I'm just a young girl of maybe six on a bicycle peddling as hard as I can trying to go up a hill to a place where I think a picnic waits. The foliage is dense on the roadside, and the smell of earth and green and damp fill the air. My lungs labor and my plumb legs tremble, but I think I made it to the top of the hill and rode down the other side to years later.

I'm in the nursery in the sweltering, hot afternoon. Sweat is running in my eyes and the soft skin on my arms burn from the cutting sawgrass blades and salt. I'm loading a truck with flats of plants, shipping them out to reclaim the earth. Sometimes I burst into song to break the monotony. The work is hard, but it feels good somehow, satisfying. The shady oaks bring relief, but only a little, and the sound of the cicadas rise and fall. The truck fills up and the ground empties. I hear the whir rise and fall, rise and fall. The truck fills up and drives down the dirt road, turning left on the highway heading for the future.

The cicadas hum rises and falls, and a lonely mourning dove coos in the distance; I'm still. I close my eyes and the soft sound of the whirring cicadas take me into the presence of God dropping me off on His porch for awhile. Rise and fall. Rise and fall. Rise and fall.

The Lord is faithful in all his words, and gracious in all his deeds. The Lord upholds all who are falling, and raises up all who are bowed down. Psalms 145:14

Peace. Love, Linda

An Apple in the Hand

I'm sitting on a black couch with a red apple in hand. I'm just about ready to bite down. I  know when I do the peeling will crack open when my teeth break the skin. The juice, if I'm lucky, will  flow out so fast I'll catch a sweet dribble on my chin. I'll cup it just right so the drip will run down into my hands and not on my shirt. I'll rip the piece of crisp Gala apple off home base with my teeth and begin to chew. That is, if I decide to eat the apple just as it sits in my hand. I could do other things with my apple.

I could bake a pie, cake, cookie, sauce, dumplings, fritter, turn-over, jelly, or candy. I could dip it in a red cinnamon coating or douse it in caramel. I could put it on a stick or stick it in a dip. I think my point is clear. Apples are versatile, flexible, usable, hearty, healthy, wholesome, special, just because they're apples. I have an apple in my hand. It's like me in God's hand. I'm an apple...or am I the chef, the baker, the candy maker?
I am both. "What is impossible for mortals is possible for God." Luke 18:27

 You can see what I did with my apple. It was delicious.

 Peace. Love, Linda