How Does Your Garden Grow?

 

Gospel reading from Saturday, September 18,2021, Luke 8:4-15: 

When a large crowd gathered, with people from one town after another
journeying to Jesus, he spoke in a parable. 
“A sower went out to sow his seed.
And as he sowed, some seed fell on the path and was trampled,
and the birds of the sky ate it up.
Some seed fell on rocky ground, and when it grew,
it withered for lack of moisture.
Some seed fell among thorns,
and the thorns grew with it and choked it.
And some seed fell on good soil, and when it grew,
it produced fruit a hundredfold.”
After saying this, he called out,
“Whoever has ears to hear ought to hear.”

Then his disciples asked him
what the meaning of this parable might be.
He answered,
“Knowledge of the mysteries of the Kingdom of God
has been granted to you;
but to the rest, they are made known through parables
so that they may look but not see, and hear but not understand.

“This is the meaning of the parable. 
The seed is the word of God.
Those on the path are the ones who have heard,
but the Devil comes and takes away the word from their hearts
that they may not believe and be saved.
Those on rocky ground are the ones who, when they hear,
receive the word with joy, but they have no root;
they believe only for a time and fall away in time of temptation.
As for the seed that fell among thorns,
they are the ones who have heard, but as they go along,
they are choked by the anxieties and riches and pleasures of life, 
and they fail to produce mature fruit.
But as for the seed that fell on rich soil,
they are the ones who, when they have heard the word,
embrace it with a generous and good heart,
and bear fruit through perseverance.”

Just as a seed needs light, water, and rich soil to grow so too does faith need to be nurtured and tended to every day. Search your soul truthfully and fully. Are you growing daily in faith? Are you sharing it? Do you live it?  How is the seed that God has planted in you growing?

Peace,

Mare

The Disadvantages of Being An Optimist and Other Musings About Geraniums....

Oh yes, there are disadvantages to being an optimist. Of course they aren't disadvantages to the one filled with hope, but to those that surround them. LOL

This thought occurred to me this morning while my eyes slightly opened and I rolled over, and looked out my window, to see gray skies instead of a sun on the horizon. My eyes saw the blah looking day but my brain thought, oh good, God is watering my gardens today.

It is all about perspective. I have a car sitting in our driveway that has been there for quite a few months now. Every couple of weeks someone will knock on the door and ask if it is for sale and I will say no and turn them away. I am sure that my neighbors look at it and think, "when is she going to get rid of that thing?" I look at it and think, "one of these days I am going to fix that and drive it again." Of course, with every day that passes that possibility gets dimmer and dimmer but do you think that stops me from thinking of the possibilities? Of course it doesn't. To me, that car is a symbol of hope and my eternal optimism. (It isn't an old broken down wreck btw, it is an older Acura that needs a few things.) So next time you see an unused car sitting in a driveway remember that it may not be a sad sack living there. It could very well be the sign of an optimist.

Early last Winter I went to put my garbage out and saw a geranium in my neighbor's garbage. They are a few doors down from me. There was still some life left in it so I bought it inside, pruned it, watered it, and gave it some Miracle Gro. Well, just look at this beauty now. With a little luck, perseverance and a lot of care this will probably be 3 plants after it is pruned and repotted over this Winter.

I happened to mention it to my next door neighbor when we were both out in our respective backyards one day this past Summer. She was amazed at how beautiful the plant had become. I must say I was a bit shocked when a few weeks ago the neighbor, who I swiped the plant from, said, "oh Marianne! I have something for you." He bought out a half dead geranium and said, "see what you can do with this." I said to him, "aha, so you heard about the one I took from your garbage last year?" Sheepishly he answered, "yeaaaaah." Of course, this glass-is-half-full kind of gal saw the potential in this geranium, as well, and I gladly accepted it. Again, I pruned it, watered it, fed it and I put it in my container garden and guess what? You got it; it is in full bloom and has had one new flower after another for two of the three weeks that I've had it. Oh! and the dead part of the plant? That has grown back nicely and has teeny tiny white flowers on it as well. As they say, "one person's trash, is another person's treasure."

Who is at the disadvantage in all of this, you ask? It is poor Tom. He is the one that is at a disadvantage in this entire scenario. When things get rough I'm the one that says, "The Lord will provide." He just gives me the look. Tom isn't a hope and miracle kind of guy. He is a show me the proof kind of guy. He does have a bit of the optimist in him. I guess some of it has rubbed off from living with me all of these years but most of the time he lives up to his name of doubting Thomas. God must have been snickering when he decided to put us two together as a family. It certainly hasn't been dull around here. I do have to say that Tom does have the patience of a saint. It isn't always easy to live with an optimist. With that being said, I would much rather live my life with hope and optimism and a healthy trust in the Lord that all will be accomplished and done well. It is much better than living without hope.

Peace,

Mare

P.S. I was telling Tom about this post last night and he looked at me like I had three heads. He said, and I quote, "you are not an optimist." LOL I can't win.

The Depths of Love

On Sunday, July 1^st at 12:18 P.M. I held her tiny little body in my arms and watched the life go out of her eyes and body. The tears had been flowing pretty steadily by now, but as I watched her leave me I let out a pitiful wail like that of an animal as well as the sobs that humans make. She had been my constant companion for the last 3 ½ years that I have been home. At first when I was too sick to care for anyone including myself, she would lie there next to me and get all excited when she realized that I was finally awake. She was better than a Guardian Angel because I knew that when I woke up I could reach over and pull her close to me and I would try to dodge her quick little tongue that was trying to kiss my face as I was trying to kiss her face too. Often we would just lie there together. I would find just that perfect spot on her belly that made her little leg quiver and she would be in heaven. As I got up and got stronger she would follow me around but that was not something new; she did that even when I still worked at the Bank. Each and every morning I would wake up to her little face and her wagging tail and greet her like a long lost friend; even though it had probably been only about 7 hours since we had last seen each other. Then together she and I would head for the bathroom; I would take my shower and she would wait patiently on the towel licking the clothing that I had shed on the floor. She even greeted me with the same enthusiasm if I was just outside picking weeds for 15 minutes. You would think that she had not seen me in well, forever. She was always under my chair, sharing my space and following me around constantly just like a watchful Mother or friend would do.

Tom often said that he was always amazed at how she knew I was coming home. Every Sunday when I would walk to the church, well anytime I would leave the house, she always knew when my footsteps rounded the corner. I could hear her shrill barking a half a block away and it always made me smile. She was the glue that kept me together when I felt at my lowest and never left my side, even though sometimes my foot would go astray on the bed and probably give her a good wallop; She would just quietly move to the floor next to me and sleep with that little snore resonating as she got older. Even if she detected a change in my breathing she would turn around and look at me; Funny how such a little thing was so acutely aware of my every move and breath.

Saturday night Tom took the evening shift. He told me he was afraid to go to sleep; he was afraid that she would just sneak off into a corner and he was not going to have any of that. But she did not do that. She lay on his bed and then on the floor, whimpering. He cradled her in his arms but she was too uncomfortable even there. She did stop whimpering for a bit but soon wanted down and he obliged. She then found her way into my room and the moment I heard her whimper I was up like a shot and she was in my arms. Tom came in and said with tears in his eyes that that was exactly the place that she wanted to be all along. She was finally able to doze off knowing that she was and always would be safe in my arms.

I still remember going to see her for the first time at my friend Colleens house. She was the runt in the first litter of Cheech and Paris, a long-haired Chihuahua Dad and a toy poodle Mom. She was so teeny tiny and had silky dark brown hair that was just beautiful to the touch. When we took her home she was 2.5 pounds. Originally she was going to be Toms dog, but when he went away for a few months the damage was done; I had officially stolen his dog and our love affair began. It is funny how circular life can be sometimes. Just last week I found the first vet bill for her. Colleen called her Lil Girl and she was born on April 23, 2002; she just celebrated her tenth birthday. Her vet was Dr. Dioniosio at the time; funny thing though is that Dr. D is exactly whom we rushed her to on Thursday of this last week when I was frantic that she was so ill. Although he does not know it he was her very first vet, he unfortunately does know that he was her last.  

Every day for the rest of my life I will think of the funny way her back curled to the left and her bushy tail wagged when she got really excited. How she could curl her tongue and sneak it up your nose in a flash and just love to clean anyones face. She loved everyone; for such a little girl she sure had a big heart. Forever I will remember the early years when she raced around the neighbors grass playing with all of the children, who just loved her. The way she needed help to get up on even the lowest furniture because she was vertically challenged.  How her voice would change from an - I want water bark, NOW, to - I hear something outside and I am going to scare them away. The way she could sit on her haunches, like a penguin, straight up and down, and beg for her food with her little paws bobbing up and down. (Look at me! I am so cute and smart and I need that breakfast plate now!) I taught her how to dance, to say please and to sit and in return she taught me a thing or two about love. She taught me to find joy in every moment spent together. She taught me that even the smallest of Gods creatures can provide the greatest joy and love to the smartest (well supposedly) of all his creations.

A large piece of my heart is missing today and it is funny but I can still hear her barking. I turn and expect to see her there, but she is not.  She was my Lil Girl, my Mommy, my joy and probably the love of my life and what a lucky woman I was that she chose me to be her best friend too.

Rest in Jesus arms my little Crazy Gracie, until we meet again.

In Remembrance of Gracie Hare, Not just a pet but a beloved family member, 4/23/02 – 7/1/12

The Babe

Oh silent though the night falls near
she lays her head upon the straw
In the darkened crevice of a lowly cave
she knows her Son will soon be born
A starburst ignites in the heavens above
as it dwarfs the other stars in the sky
when He comes into our world
and looks into her face
the teardrops glide down from her eyes
This young woman has loved
this babe in her arms
from the moment she was chosen to be
the mother of this perfect, beautiful infant
who would grow to save humanity
But for now she can nurse Him at her breast
count His fingers and His toes
caress His face and watch Him sleep
Kiss His belly and His nose
A mother's depth of love is endless
that's the way it is meant to be
For to gaze into the face of your child
is a moment of sheer ecstasy.



An original work of poetry by Marianne E. Hare 12/17/10