The Tree

God looked down on the virgin land,
And rollicking sea.
The earth was but an infant,
Bare and vulnerable.

“Let vegetation come forth”, he said.

Grass, flowers and trees,
Plants for food,
Plants for shelter.

God put his finger print in the soil.
And gently planted each blade of grass
And admired their movement in the breeze.

He carefully set each fragile flower,
And paused with pleasure as He engulfed
Their fragrance.

God’s hands embraced each tree.
Admiring the trunk for its strength.
Each branch with nourishment for the leaves,
He smiled on.
But He hesitated, as He touched the wood.

And in the mind of the finite,
Flashed the words “One Day”.

When God completed His world,
With creatures of every kind,
He announced to the universe that “it was good”.

He then gave life to man and woman
and placed them in a garden.

The Heavenly Son looked at His Father
and they said “It is very good”.

Two trees stood in the midst of the garden,
One for knowledge,
One for life.
Attractive,
Beneficial,
Desirable.

One day the Spirit warned,
From the arms of a tree
The voice of temptation will be uttered.
“Do this – be Wise
God didn’t mean . . . ”

The enemy taunted,
The fruit of the tree,
Take and eat,
Know good and evil.

Deceived.
Distance.
Death.

The fruit of the tree in human hands,
The hope of life out of their reach

Generations of trees,
Generations of men and women,

living
dying
living
dying

One day,
An axe broke the bark of a tree,
And cut into the flesh of the tree,
A tree strong, majestic.
And again the axe slashed the tree,
Bringing it down to the ground.

Roughly cut,
Crudely assembled.
That tree’s humble destiny – a feed box for cattle

One night,
Outside the noise and bustle of a little town,
A baby was born and sheltered,
New life was held in the wooden arms of a manger.

The baby boy grew and learned,
Watched his father’s skilful hands hold the wood,
As he crafted with his tools.
Often he would step back and admire his work and proclaim “Good!”

Someplace,
Somehow,
There were memories for the boy,
Of another time,
Of another Father.
Who shaped the trees in his hands
Who delighted in creating the wood.

The boy grew and became a man.

Amid the cries and jeers,
Within the city walls,
He was judged,
Beaten and mocked.
He stumbled under,
A heavy wooden beam on his shoulders,
As the crowd pressed on,
To the hill beyond.

tears
cheers
cries
taunts
A life facing death
stripped
exposed
body bleeding

“Crucify Him”,
The crowd sang out, to the beat on the metal nails.

cold
course
through warm flesh
into the dry wood

life
death

The wooden cross raised high the dying form

Had God known?
Had God known that the tree he created,
Would become the cross?!

The cross lowered,
The body entombed.

darkness
distance
death

New life 3 days later.
The Father had remembered.

Why do you look for the living
among the dead?

He is alive

He is the way, the truth and the life.

He is the way to the tree of life

Take and eat
And live.

Missing Mommy

April 23 was the 7th anniversary of my beloved mother passing away.

I cannot believe it has been seven years, it seems just like it was yesterday.
Now, the tears are less and the pain has decreased, but that loss will never go away.
And nor should it. We have experienced a great loss and that needs to be spoken.
We live in a culture that wants to clean things up quickly and sterilizes the rest.

But no, we should remember, we should grieve and we should never forget.
In this "never forgetting" we also recall God's great work and grace.
We renew our hope in resurrection and are faith is Jesus is refreshed.

The faith that Jesus possessed is also ares and we need not worry that it is mixed with grief.

So here's to my mom-missed greatly, but still loved deeply.
Until we meet again. God's peace.
Pamela

Spring 2008 First Fruits

My garden is bursting forth, declaring the majesty of God!

God always calls

The last time I checked I was a Christian,
But today I blew it and pretty sure I can't be forgiven.
"Come home my child", I hear Him say.
"It's time for dinner and then will play".
"You still love me, Lord?" I asked at once.
"Of course I do my silly kid, love is all I have to give".
PCFS

Psalm 143

Psalm 143 has become important to me these past few months. Although, I still love Psalm 46, I have discovered that Psalm 143 speaks to me in a way that makes a great deal of common sense. It is a great Psalm to begin your day with and to end with, at night.

When you read Psalm 143 you can see several things about God's attributes and several things about King Davids attributes. (And yes, I believe King David actually wrote this Psalm)

First thing to note is, that God is described as faithful, righteous, a place of refuge, a worker of deeds, possessing a good spirit and has steadfast love.

In a slight contrast King David is looking for refuge, seeking God's ways, entreating God to hear his prayer, remembering God's wonderful works, declaring he is God's servant, bares his whole body and soul towards God in a humble act of seeking, puts his trust in God, asks for remembrance of God's steadfast love, searches for a level path that only God can provide and asks God to help, in dealing with his enemies. He also asks God to help him do His will.

David is clearly in a relationship with God. If you are ever wondering what it means to be in a healthy relationship with someone, well this Psalm can help you.

In healthy relationships whether they be friendships, marital, family, professional, socially and or meeting strangers you can learn form this Psalm. This Psalm teaches about trust, love, remembrance, care, safety, righteousness, faithfulness, humility and servant-hood.

Now I know I have not dealt with the historical context of the this Psalm and perhaps, I need to. Right off the bat however, it is clear that David is in some predicament and seeks out his loving God to help him. But we can also seek out God and should seek out God for all times whether good or bad. And we know from this Psalm that God will answer, David is after all remembering the days of old, when God was near him.

So for me and as an offering for you, I suggest you mediate on this Psalm in the morning and at night offering yourself as a servant to God, recalling how good God has been in the past, how His steadfast love has carried you through whatever circumstances.

Pamela

Spring has Sprung

I look outside my window,
The blooming hyacinths are there.
I smell the cool wet grass,
Beginning to grow.
A soft wind silently passes,
Spring has certainly sprung.

The silence of the afternoon is deafening.
I feel restless and afraid.
I watch the Robins and the Cardinals,
Almost jealous at the work they have begotten.
This Spring, has begun.

I want to stop time.
I watch as soft clouds drift by.
More rain is coming.
This is good, no one will see my tears.
I want the Spring to stop.

The life that burst forth in front of me, is exhausting.
I cling to the window sill,
Terrified of the new life in front of me.
I am to drained to think of the sowing and weeding,
And watering that is needed.
Too tired to think about the fertilizer and pruning that is required,
For my garden to be the beauty it was meant for.

I want Winter.

But alas, the Cardinals red has caught my attention,
It glows with majesty.
And then, Theophilus, my 25 pounds of black fur, runs past me,
Chasing the birds with delight. I catch myself laughing and call to him.
He loves Spring.

He rolls around in the mud gleefully, purring.
How could I deny him this?
How can I deny the tulips and daffodils their time in the sun?
How could I ever want to stop Spring?

I go the garage, and grab the rake.
I sweat after an hours work.
I take in the sun with all of its promises,
And wonder where God has been?
"Spring", I hear Him whisper, "Spring".

A time of renewal and resurrection.
A time to begin again.
A time to dust off the winter and trust again.
Spring has sprung, my mind knows this.
It's my heart that won't wake.

It knows the pruning to come,
For it has already begun.
The past few weeks have been so laborious,
Anger, fighting, winds of war and tumultuous rain.
The Spring in my heart can be so damp.

But I stand here, looking at winters moldy leaves.
"Ready to rake?", He asks.
"Yes Lord, but I am tired of waiting".
"I know", He says softly. "But summer is just around the corner,
Rake now and seed, I'll do the rest".
So I rake, clearing a place for new seed.
Spring clean up has begun.

I smell the grass and suddenly feel a warm breeze.
Theophilus, is at my feet. He is rolling, purring and smiling.
The hopes of roses and gardenias fill my mind,
They are my favorite flowers, and I have missed them.
"The summer will bring what you need", He offers.
"Trust the seeds we plant, trust the Spring.
"Trust me"!