Saturday, July 18, 2009

Weekends are for Finding Wildflowers


Sweet peas grow in the ditches, buttercups along country roads, and Queen Anne in all her lace presides, regal and white, over summer blooming wild.

Weekends are for wandering in the woods, slowing to smell the flowers, untamed and free, bringing home a few for the front porch mason jar, the nature table's old bottle, a slender vase in quiet windowsill. This weekend, we find a road less traveled, and we meander, just picking daisies and listening to that whisper.... "He loves me, He loves me, He loves me...."









“We need to find God,
and He cannot be found in noise and restlessness.
God is the friend of silence.
See how nature - trees, flowers, grass- grows in silence;
see the stars, the moon and the sun, how they move in silence...

We need silence to be able to touch souls.”

~ Mother Theresa














Weekends are for listening.... for the trees of the field clap, and the flowers bow low.



May your weekend wanderings, kind friends, take you out where the heaven's declare....

All's grace,




Sing to the LORD with thanksgiving;
make music to our God on the harp.

He covers the sky with clouds;
he supplies the earth with rain
and makes grass grow on the hills....



the LORD delights in those who fear him,
who put their hope in his unfailing love.

~Ps. 147:7-11







Related: How the City Hurts Your Brain, Boston Globe

And from the archives:
Make a Nature Table ::: Inked in Green ::: More Nature Inspiration


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In the experiences of a simple/crazy life,
farming Canadian dirt, raising
half a dozen exuberant kids,
stringing sheets out on the line....

I'm praying to slow and see
the sacred in the chaos,
the Cross in the clothespin,
the flame in the bush.

Just a bit of
listening, laundry, liturgy...
life.






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