A rain splashed blessing

A rain splashed blessing, unexpected, given up on in fact. 

This Carolina jessamine, now adored with several yellow blooms, was planted last Spring in hopes that it would grow rapidly and soften the top of a privacy fence once sheltered by an overhanging canopy of dogwood, sassafras, sweetgum, and magnolia trees.  (I wrote about the loss of those trees here.)
Several months ago I noticed that the jessamine was turning brown, the sad result of an overzealous application of Round-Up by our neighbor on the other side of the fence.  All of my grief and anger from the loss of those trees flared up again.
This afternoon I walked out in the drizzle after work, making my daily round through the garden to see the changes another day had brought.  And there they were - cheery yellow blooms atop the fence, only a few, but giving me hope for an abundance of blooms in years to come.

Love begets love

I read the obituary pages in the newspaper every morning.  Not out of morbid curiosity but because the lives of those who have died are worth notice and often honor and respect.  I pray for the families who are grieving.  News of the death of a child almost always brings tears.  As I read about men and women of my father's generation - the generation that Tom Brokaw called "The Greatest Generation" - I am often in awe of their resilience and courage. An obituary in this morning's edition began:

A Tribute to Our Parents
Mary G. Crossland
Dr. Clem C. Crossland
Carrsville, VA

I read the lengthy tribute though I didn't know the Crosslands. It told me that they were compassionate and loving people who raised five children to model their own behavior and values.  At the close of the tribute the children ask something of the reader:

There are some debts that are so enormous that they can never be repaid in full, even in a small measure – and the devotion of one's family is one of those. In honor of our parents, we ask that each of you pay it forward by treating your own loved ones with dignity, kindness and compassionate care for as long as you have the strength and resources, for you will not regret a day that you do so.

The anniversary of my father's death is tomorrow. He was also one of "The Greatest Generation" and a man of great integrity, love, and compassion. I could never repay the debt I owe for his unconditional love, for the example he set, for the values he instilled in me and my siblings. We are a strong and loving family largely because of his example. As we approach this anniversary we are gathered in spirit at all times and in body whenever possible to support my brother who was diagnosed in early February with brain cancer. But my brother is not just the recipient of support- he and his love for us are equally integral parts of this teepee we have made by leaning on one another. We support each other as we did when we gathered following my father's death last March. Love, compassion, understanding, forgiveness - these elements heal and strengthen. They are medicine for the patient and the patient's family. They flow through us from God, wrap around us, and bind us together. May you and your family be bound together in love. Pay it forward - not because it's a debt to be paid or an obligation -pay it forward because that's what love does. Love begets love.

Chasing bubbles

Warm sunshine

A grandson chasing bubbles

in his dinosaur boots

Each day comes bearing its own gifts. 

Untie the ribbons. ~Ruth Ann Schabacker

Earth's crammed with heaven

Earth's crammed with heaven, And every common bush afire with God; But only he who sees, takes off his shoes - The rest sit round it and pluck blackberries. --Elizabeth Barrett Browning

Earth is crammed with Heaven in all seasons, but as Spring approaches, I am aware of it with all of my senses. The life that has been slumbering through the cold of winter is waking up.
I hear it, feel it, see it each and every day.  

My father rejoiced each year when he saw the first crocus spring up.  Last February he was too ill to watch for the crocus himself, and so when it appeared, I took a photo for him.

Last  fall I planted crocus bulbs in his memory.
The first bloom appeared this week.

With open heart and eyes I look for Heaven on earth.