Day 11: Flowering Joy

Every spring one of the first things I itch to do is plunge my hands into a pile of dirt.  It is one of my favorite yearly activities.  And although the work probably lasts less than a hour, it brings me happiness all summer long.

I call it my dirt therapy.

Now, I am certainly no gardener and haven't a green appendage on my body, but I do like planting flowers in my window boxes.  Lazy gardening, I guess.

I can stand to plant them and other than dead-heading them every few days and ensuring they have water (which hubby helps with) they really are maintenance free.

The rewards pay off about this time of year when everything is in full bloom and my beds are bursting with color.

This is what greets me each day as I enter or leave my house.

They just scream happy hellos to me.

As you can see from the plants below the boxes, my theme of low-maintenance continues.  I literally do nothing to those poor plants, other than maybe remove last year's shells before the new plants bud forth.  

My love of flowers comes from my Grandma McGuffin.  She had beautiful displays that lined her driveway and sidewalk.  So many fond memories I have of us sitting at her kitchen table looking over her daylilies and watching the birds feed.  Like my sweet hubby, Grandpa helped her care for them.  She's been gone several years but her flowers still continue to bloom and every season I go and cut a bunch to enjoy.

If I had the time and ability, I would have a yard full of flowers, each one strategically planted so that when one season ended, a new batch would pop from the earth.  And every few days I'd replace fresh cuts of flowers in vases throughout the house.

Instead, I'll settle for my pretty window boxes and a beautiful fake arrangement that adorns my table, scattered in with the occasional flowers that might find their way home for a vase.

And in case you're thinking of nudging hubby he ought to send me some, don't bother.  He knows I'd rather he stop on the roadside and pluck up something wild than pay for flowers that'll fade in a few days anyway.

My favorites are daffodils and dandelions because that is what the boys picked me when they were little.  What's your favorite flower and why?

Day 10: Joy comes in the Morning

It's a somber day in our community, as we're collectively grieving the loss of another life cut short too soon.  A young mother, my age, taken by cancer.  And yesterday, multiple lives taken in a crash on a road we drive each and every day.

Death on the heels of a nation still reeling from unnecessary violence and innocent lives taken in the line of duty.

A weeping world in which we live.

In loss that doesn't make sense, it can seem difficult to know what to say or do.  Sometimes there aren't words to express or convey to cover the pain.

I've been on the stinging side of pain and know that sometimes words are the worst things someone can share.  When you've been forced to say goodbye too soon, some phrases bring the opposite of comfort.

"Everything happens for a reason"

or

"They're in a better place"

or 

"God needed another angel"

or

"God doesn't give us more than we can handle.

Because in great loss, you don't care what the reasons were.  And sometimes, often, life gives us more than we can handle.

I remember shortly after Austin passed I came across the scripture from Psalm 30:5 and how it angered me.  At the time, joy seemed impossible.  Forbidden even.  In the depths of my pain I couldn't imagine how joy would ever be in my world again.  Joy in the morning, when all I felt was darkness...

The first time I laughed after, almost by accident, as it escaped out of my mouth before I could stop it.  I paused, quickly drew a breath back in, unsure what would happen next.  But I don't recall the second time laughter came.  Or the next.  Slowly, joy just began to seep back into our lives.

This morning we went to the place where Joy is always flowing, our church.

Six years ago, God stirred within me the desire to seek joy.  He sent me on a journey to not just find it, but share that joy with others.  And in doing so, he's given me purpose through the pain.  He's taught me that weeping does endure but eventually joy returns.

Joy comes in the morning, even if it is on the other side of eternity.

After church we returned home to huddle close, hibernate and hug those we love most.  Though we'd had tentative plans and even invitations to leave, staying home just felt necessary today.  We shared a big family meal and lingered a few hours at the table playing cards.  By games end, we were laughing so hard we're not even sure who won.  But it didn't matter.

For a moment, all was right in this world.  We were happy, healthy and together.  For this momma, that always brings me joy.

Prayers of peace that passes understanding for all those hurting tonight.  And in the days to come.