Sweet and fair


I plucked a honeysuckle where The hedge on high is quick with thorn, And climbing for the prize, was torn, And fouled my feet in quag-water; And by the thorns and by the wind The blossom that I took was thinn’d And yet I found it sweet and fair.
Christina G. Rossetti

Sweet and fair—that is what the sight and scent of honeysuckle truly is—the precious thoughts its image conjures up from the storage of my treasured memories of childhood, often long forgotten or buried….
To see, to smell, to taste of the honeysuckle, plucked from a lazy summer afternoon…school is out, the days are long, bare feet, under the veil of a bright sun, puffy white clouds set against and azure blue sky. Breathing deeply, almost gasping for the heavy perfumed air.
I am free and at great peace. At this moment, is there anything better? To gently tear off the base of the honeysuckle’s blossom with one’s front teeth and suck out the tiny drop of hidden sweet…is this what the bees are fighting me for…how many blossoms must they visit?
This sudden rush of a the past is instantly palpable just seeing this wealth of vine growing on an old fence post—an overgrown growth of vegetation to the landowner—sweet innocent childhood to me.

Not yet what we shall be


“This life therefore is not righteousness, but growth in righteousness, not health, but healing, not being but becoming, not rest but exercise. We are not yet what we shall be, but we are growing toward it, the process is not yet finished, but it is going on, this is not the end, but it is the road. All does not yet gleam in glory, but all is being purified.”
― Martin Luther

This photograph is a picture of what some might call an immature or baby Hydrangea. Southerners are most familiar with these giant showy flower puffs that are found in so many southern yards. Seems everyone’s grandmother had/ has the prettiest color. Hydrangeas are funny that way. They are so dependent on the ph of the soil—be it too alkaline or not…that is pretty much the soul determining factor in the color of the blooms–be they pink or blue. There are white hydrangeas but they usually stay white— an owner may only tweak the color between the blue and the pink varieties by adding or subtracting aluminum to and/or form the soil.

I read this quote by Luther and loved it’s reference towards things growing–growing towards something, an unfinished process–things not being quite ready yet, the shine of glory that is yet to be—just like this hydrangea bloom—in a week or two, this bloom will be full, huge, and, in my yard, blue—a big showy giant blue ball, along with all of the other blooms around it. But today, it is simply young and immature, a long way off from its potential.

The hydrangea’s potential is just sitting there waiting– I know what the finished results should be and will be. Just like all of us–as we are not yet what we shall be, only God knows what our finished results shall be. Even at my age, sitting at a place where my career (at least career number 1) is behind me, my son, at almost 25, is basically all “grown” up…one would think that I have come to the majority of my potential—but that just is not so….and for that, I am glad. I am happy knowing, and even excited thinking, that there is much more to me–more for me to do, to accomplish, a better person I am to become….there is hope in that!

May we all remember this Monday morning that we are all in the midsts of a process that is unfinished as we are all growing towards our individual potential–waiting for the gleam of our individual glory that only The Creator, our Father, knows and that our small glory gives way to His greater Glory. All of this while living our day to day lives—being purified in our growth….slowly and surly.
Always having Hope, always remembering that, as long as we have a breath to breathe, we still have the potential to shine.