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Musings: Back Again!

 

I am so tired of being sick this Spring.  It seems as though I have been dealing with unhealthy demons since about 20 February.  First my really bad upper respiratory deal that knocked me out for two to three weeks.  Then, after just one week of feeling good I was plagued by a bad cold/allergies (I never did decide which it was).  That dragged on for more than three weeks before I was hit by the gastric flu bug.  I am so ready to be done with all this and be truly healthy for the rest of this year!!

What really annoys the heck out of me is that sickness robs me not just of health on all levels, but also of time.  Oh I know I still live each minute that God gives me.  I don’t lose effective time.  What I lose is the time I would normally put in to all the various activities that make up the flesh of my life.

My garden lies in wait to be ministered to.  Outdoor projects for which I had a planned scheduled have to go on hold.  The weeds begin to sprout profusely in the flower beds, and just the pure unadulterated  pleasure of being out there working in the dirt has to be postponed while viral bugs have their with my body.

My writing is forced on to a back burner. No matter which part of my body is physically under attack, the Muse withdraws and hides.  My head seems full of fuzz and leaves no room for inspiration.  My arms and hands are sluggish, ravaged by fevers or infections or plain old weakness, and consequently they have no strength to fly over the keyboard in creativity.

My craft room sits in silence full of its colorful cardstock and inks, ribbons and stamps, glitter and glue and various findings.  But nothing there is able to penetrate the general sense of dis-ease that pervades my body, heart, mind and soul.  Not even a fast-finished product can elevate me from the murky depths that sickness produces within me.  The Muse avoids temptation!

And my wonderful husband patiently tends me, doing everything he can to alleviate the grayness that insidiously surrounds me.  And even there I feel robbed because I have no energy, nor am I in any kind of mood, to actively participate in our relationship.  And that is a loss in and of itself.

There is nothing I can do about this state of affairs.  Bugs and viruses for the most part have to be given their time.  I can only languish and try to be as positive as possible.  I practice patience and humility in accepting the situation for what it is.  But my inner child grows pouty, wants to go out and play, and longs for the company of Muse.

I have been very careful this week in my return to health.  No rushing out and doing everything it once.  This is difficult for me because I have a tendency to want to make up for lost time, to catch up.  But one thing I have learned: time once past can never be “caught up”. 

Today I have done a little in the garden: prepared and planted up three raised beds with spring onions, Web’s lettuce, and chard.  In another small flower bed I sewed seeds that I hope will bring a small wild profusion of blooms later in the summer.  I finished all that I had hoped to achieve before the rains came.

And now I sit in my lanai and listen to the thunder rolling in the distance.  One particular roll sounded rather like a Harley and for a moment I was amused as I pictured God in black leather Chaps and a ponytail rumbling across the skies on a sleek chrome machine!  And, joy oh joy, my Muse is back and here we go dancing across the keyboard in a game of catch-me-if-you-can.

Self Nurturing: The Garden – Remodeled!

Finally the sun has deigned to grace us with his presence, his light, and his warmth down here in (normally!) sunny Florida.  The biting cold, the frosts, and miserable grey are hopefully a thing of the past.  And not a day too late; my garden Muse was absolutely itching to get to work because I had major projects to accomplish!

This year I decided to shake things up a little in my garden.  The St. Francis flower bed, so named because his statue oversees this part of the garden, had developed a deep-rooted weed system which was hard to control.  So I decided to dig deep, dig out as much as possible of the offending growth, and put in a fairly large (10’ x 6’) paved patio center-front of the bed to eliminate some of the back-breaking work of weeding. I have dressed up the patio with pots and urns of various sizes and colours which are planted up with bulbs, seeds and some partially developed plants. 

The Quan Yin flower bed, obviously named because her statue reigns supreme here, is much the same as before.  However I have decided to fill it with even more flowers this year.  There are also hundreds of seeds lying just below the surface of the soil which hopefully will germinate and bloom as the year goes by.  I also plan to add to the collection of brightly coloured chimes and wind twisters that hang from the wrought iron framework of the old gazebo that I moved to this bed when the lanai was built last year. 

The front yard has undergone the biggest transformation: the side two of the three small flowerbeds have been eliminated and returned to sod, while the central flowerbed has been enlarged to four times its original size.  I have walled it in with rustic stonework, elevating the back part to a higher terraced level.  The front area has been filled to overflowing with brightly coloured spring flowers and hundreds of seeds are also germinating here for later in the season. 

However, the central attraction of this new terraced bed is the weather-worn, trellis arch that originally sat just outside the screened-in back porch room.  This arch, which was deeply rooted into the ground on each side with six years of steadily growing orange trumpet vine, was dug up and relocated to the center of the raised terrace part of the new bed out front.  A couple of extra trellis panels have been added on each side of the arch to accommodate the copious trailing branches that grow from the vines, and I have planted several rose bushes in this elevated section too.

All of this was done with much help from my assistant gardener, Linda – a very dear friend without whose help I could not have achieved this major overhaul!!  This morning, after many anxious days of waiting and watching, new green growth showed on the winter-hibernating vine that wraps itself intricately around the arch:-).

As I sit in the lanai writing, my heart is full of joy and my soul sings in gratitude as I survey the end result of much hard work.   It continues to be a work in progress and God’s creation will become even more beautiful as seeds develop into plants and then bloom out in a riot of colour.  And this joy and gratitude are magnified because I know that passers-by can feast their eyes and experience their own heart joy.

My happiness is complete as I watch the birds swarming at the feeders. Squirrels are scurrying in the grass and chasing each other up and over the back fence.  Lizards and frogs are awakening from their winter lethargy and today I have seen at least a dozen butterflies. 

Richard has taken some lovely photos of the garden today, some of them early this morning in the subdued sunrise light, and some of them around lunch time.  Enjoy!!

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You can see all 45 photos at the Spring Garden Update Photo Album.

Shared Wisdom: Resurrection

At Easter I am always reminded of a very special “resurrection” or “new life” story.  This story is one of several writings that we had available as Team Members to read to the participants of the CREDO Personal Growth Retreats.  I always tried to be the one to read this particular piece because I found it to be so meaningful and moving.  (Unless Chaplain Bruce was on the team, then he got first dibs and I would read my second favorite – a passage from The Velveteen Rabbit by Marjorie Williams.

Jeremy’s Egg

Jeremy was born with a twisted body, a slow mind and a chronic terminal illness that had been slowly killing him all his young life. Still, his parents had tried to give him as normal a life as possible and had sent him to St. Theresa’s Elementary School.

At the age of 12, Jeremy was only in second grade, seemingly unable to learn. His teacher, Doris Miller, often became exasperated with him. He would squirm in his seat, drool and make grunting noises. At other times, he spoke clearly and distinctly, as if a spot of light had penetrated the darkness of his brain. Most of the time, however, Jeremy irritated his teacher.

One day, she called his parents and asked them to come to St. Theresa’s for a consultation. As the Forresters sat quietly in the empty classrooms, Doris said to them, "Jeremy really belongs in a special school. It isn’t fair to him to be with younger children who don’t have learning problems. Why there is a five-year gap between his age and that of the other students!"

Mrs. Forrester cried softly into a tissue while her husband spoke, "Miss Miller," he said, "there is no school of that kind nearby. It would be a terrible shock for Jeremy if we had to take him out of this school. We know that he really likes it here."

Doris sat for a long time after they left, staring at the snow outside of the window. It’s coldness seems to seep into her soul. She wanted to sympathize with the Forresters. After all, their only child had a terminal illness. But it wasn’t fair to keep him in her class. She had 18 other youngsters to teach and Jeremy was a distraction. Furthermore, he would never learn to read or write. Why waste any more time trying?

As she pondered the situation, guilt washed over her. "Oh God," she said aloud, "here I am complaining when my problems are nothing compared with that poor family! Please help me to be more patient with Jeremy." From that day on, she tried hard to ignore Jeremy’s noises and his blank stares. Then one day he limped to her desk, dragging his bad leg behind him. "I love you, Miss Miller," he exclaimed, loudly enough for the whole class to hear. The other children snickered, and Doris’ face turned red. She stammered, "Wh-Why, that’s very nice, Jeremy. Now please take your seat."

Spring came, and the children talked excitedly about the coming of Easter. Doris told them the story of Jesus, and then to emphasize the idea of new life springing forth, she gave each of the children a large plastic egg. "Now," she said to them, "I want you take this home and bring it back tomorrow with something inside that shows new life. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Miss Miller!" the children responded enthusiastically – all except for Jeremy. He just listened intently, his eyes never left her face. He did not even make his usual noises. Had he understood what she had said about Jesus’ death and resurrection? Did he understand the assignment? Perhaps she should call his parents and explain the project to them. That evening, Doris’ kitchen sink stopped up. She called the landlord and waited an hour for him to come by and unclog it. After that, she still had to shop for groceries, iron a blouse and prepare a vocabulary test for the next day. She completely forgot about phoning Jeremy’s parents.

The next morning, 19 children came to school, laughing and talking as they placed their eggs in the large wicker basket on Miss Miller’s desk.

After they completed their Math lesson, it was time to open the eggs. In the first egg, Doris found a flower. "Oh yes, a flower is certainly a sign of new life," she said. "When plants peek through the ground we know that spring is here."

A small girl in the first row waved her arms. "That’s my egg, Miss Miller," she called out. The next egg contained a plastic butterfly, which looked very real. Doris held it up. "We all know that a caterpillar changes and grows into a beautiful butterfly. Yes that is new life, too."

Little Judy smiled proudly and said, "Miss Miller, that one is mine." Next Doris found a rock with moss on it. She explained that the moss, too, showed new life. Billy spoke up from the back of the classroom. "My daddy helped me!" he beamed.

Then Doris opened the fourth egg. She gasped. The egg was empty! Surely it must be Jeremy’s, she thought, and, of course, he did not understand her instructions. If she only had not forgotten to phone his parents. Because she did not want to embarrass him, she quietly set the egg aside and reached for another. Suddenly Jeremy spoke up. "Miss Miller, aren’t you going to talk about my egg?" Flustered, Doris replied, "But Jeremy your egg is empty!" He looked into her eyes and said softly, "Yes, but Jesus’ tomb was empty too!"

Time stopped. When she could speak again, Doris asked him, "Do you know why the tomb was empty?" "Oh yes!" Jeremy exclaimed. "Jesus was killed and put in there. Then his Father raised him up!"

The recess bell rang. While the children excitedly ran out to the school yard, Doris cried. The cold inside her melted completely away. Three months later Jeremy died. Those who paid their respects at the mortuary were surprised to see 19 eggs on top of his casket, all of them empty!

Jeremy’s Egg by Ida Mae Kempel

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