Cardinals in the Cedars

   At the edge of the yard, a few cedars stand. They have retained three green hue even through a long, and very snowy, winter. The cardinals really seem to love those branches, because in the mornings I often see them tucked into the branches, peeking out at the morning. The brilliant crimson of the feathers stand out in the cedar, creating a classic Christmas card look each morning. When the colors are combined with the being struck by the morning sun, it becomes an effect which really belongs more to oil paint than birds and trees. The cardinal is a brilliant color and when it is in the sun, its color is only brighter and more pronounced.

   God made us with unique characteristics, bits of color in our character. We are certainly responsible to grow these strengths. Then, they are to be used to the most honorable and right to forward God’s people and purpose. But, as much as we work on these gifts, it is when the Son’s light is part of the equation that we really see the attributes stand out distinctively.

Reflections

As the snow is melting and the air warming up, we had a thick blanket of fog one morning this week. Soon, the knee high snow outside my front door changed to puddles. A combination of the fog making the sky look opaque and the water in the puddle being still led to a reflection of the trees in the water. I noticed the puddle and how the trees were reflected on that wet surface, not a perfect representation – but a representation none the less. As I moved around the puddle, trying to skirt it and avoid getting mud on my dress shoes (a.k.a. work shoes), the reflective image changed. The more I moved, the more it changed.

I started thinking about what I am supposed to be a reflection of. When people look at me, I want them to see a reflection of God. But, if they continue on around the puddle of me, what else do they see? Do they see circumstances reflected or God moving through them? Do they see my failings or God working through them? Do they see my successes or God using them? I want to be like a puddle, clear and a smooth surface for God to be reflected on.

Home, Home on the ???

“Home, home on the….” I always seem to get stuck there. Where is home? I mentioned before that I’ve moved around a bit, so when I get that inevitable question of “where are you from?” My answer is always a question back, “at what grade?” In other words, it changed based on different times in my life. So, home has been mobile, and then family home is someplace else.

I am looking forward to a trip home (family home) in the fairly near future, thinking about seeing my family, times together. I get more excited with each passing day. Living in Iowa for 12 years, it is home and yet, at the same time is not. Where is home?
I look around me at the pains, the hurts, the terrible things we do to each other. Is this really my home? What a wonderful thing to be able to say, and know, that this is not my home. Not my real home. But, not being at home can be a lonely proposition. It can feel as if I am alone in the wide weird world. Turning to my Bible, I am reminded that I am not alone in this, I am not alone in this sojourn to my home.
“Dear friends, I urge you, as aliens and strangers in the world, to abstain from sinful desires, which war against your soul. Live such good lives among the pagans that, though they accuse you of doing wrong, they may see your good deeds and glorify God on the day he visits us,” (1 Peter 2:11-12). Friends who are also aliens and strangers in the world, we are not alone! Then, there are instructions following. This is the decision in life choices, decisions which promotes God’s glory to those who do not know him or have spurned him.
Returning back to the idea of alone, of being away from our real home, I look just a few verses above in 1 Peter 2, to verses nine and ten. “But you are a chose people a royal priesthood, a holy nation, a people belonging to God, that you may declare the praises of him who called you out of darkness into his wonderful light. Once you were not a people, but now you are the people of God; once you had not received mercy, but now you have received mercy.” Not alone, but a nation – we are promised a home. One day, I will finish that song. “Home, home on the…. Streets of the heavenly kingdom.”

Moonlight, Prayers, and Pillows

I am normally a very sound sleeper. Night comes, it gets dark, my eyes grow heavy, and quite often I have no difficulty in curling up with my pillows and blankets to find a soft and sweet sleep.


There are times though, when I am woken up. Not by the owl singing love songs to his feathered mate on the next hill, or the dog who occasionally howls in her sleep. But, woken for a purpose. It is something like a knocking at my heart, faint and gentle at times, stridently piercing at other times. It is a knocking like a hammer that knows exactly which part to strike. I wake up from my sleep and know that there is a need.

Sometimes it is a prayer need for a family member or friend. I try to focus my fuzzy sleepy brain around that as the moonlight comes into the room and coats everything. At other times, it is a sense of urgency to pray, but without a specific topic. But these times, though they interrupt my rest, are very special to me. My thoughts slowed down by the quiet, they are often more centered on the topic at hand. This may be something I have prayed about all day, and yet, somehow in the dark of the night, it is clearer than by the sunlight. I am less distracted, less liable to wander off my topic.

I wonder if you are ever woken up in the night by more than the crooning owl or the howling dog. Do you have someone knock on your heart at times?

Sun and Moon

We had about two weeks of classic Mid-West winter weather here in Iowa this last January.  Grey skies, grey ground, grey grey grey!  Blah!  After about two weeks of not seeing the sun,  I think people started to slowly lose their minds, collectively.  Me included.  Everything big or little felt big, everything was a little harder, little more draining, and then the complaining started. 

The sun, which is out today and absolutely beautiful, makes such an incredible difference.  It chases away much of the winter doldrums, brightens the snow back up to it’s gleaming white, and warms us.  Standing in the window, I close my eyes and just soak in the warmth that is offered.

God kind of reminds me of the sun.  We can’t look at them straight on – they are blinding.  Providing warmth and clarity of sight, they do remind me of each other, the creator and the creation.  I can’t be a sun.  That’s not my job.  I think I’m more like the moon.  The moon that is to reflect the sun, shining it’s own light not from the inside but as the light bounces off.  I need to make sure that my surface (my heart, attitudes, spirit, choices, and mind) reflects God. 

How am I doing at reflecting God?  That is a question for me to continue to ask myself.