Monday, June 20, 2016

memory garden

Sitting here this morning, this first day of summer, and all I can see in my mind's eye are my grandmothers' hands --and flowers. Gorgeous lilies (one named for each grandchild), the rose garden outside Papa's window, the funky spiky thing that grew in the front yard with a name I cannot remember, the camellias that grew as tall as trees all circling around the little frog pond, the giant wisteria tree that was the choicest spot for all of the neighborhood bumblebees, the bouquets created for many a Sunday morning worship or delivered to a friend's house, the buds and blooms we were allowed to pick and place in vases or teacups all around their kitchens or on tables...

I was reading in Psalm 136 where, again and again, we are reminded of the great wonders of the Father's own hands and of His great love. Oh, give thanks! And so I do.

Walking joyfully here in the garden of my memory, I see them and I thank God again for their lives, their hands, the flowers they grew, and for summertime, too... all a testimony to His creativity, His grace, His great love ♥

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