The View from My Window, Part 2 – A Well-Watered Garden

 

A few weeks ago  I described the lawns across the street – one well watered, one not.  Since that time, the lawn that was languishing in the relentlessly dry Texas heat is showing a creeping greenness. Why? Our neighbor turned on the sprinkling system that now irrigates the lawn in the wee early hours of the day. The brown patches are receding, even as the temperatures climb. The blessing of water – consistently and gently available – is having an obvious effect before my eyes. 

However the same water that waters this lawn is creating problems elsewhere in the neighborhood. I described my encounter with the torrents of dirty water a broken water main released yesterday. Today on our early morning walk, we encountered the results of the city opening up a fire hydrant. At one point a city worker hopped from his truck and dropped what we think were large chlorine tablets into the rushing water.  Some curbs were so inundated with muddy water, crossing them was a challenge – taking wide strides across water and mud is tricky with balance issues and bifocals. 

Looking up one alley, we saw a large excavation – something was wrong. We don’t know whether this is scheduled repair work on an old system, or an unexpected problem. But the same water that is refreshing a dying lawn is creating obstacles for our walks.

Water is a hot topic of conversation any day. Whether we talk about its power revealed in tsunamis, floods and storms; lament its excess or absence, or, lament its pollution praise its life-giving properties we can’t live long without it, and we can’t live with too much of it! In my little world I see what too little and too much can do – and I can see how wise watering can revitalize a barren lawn.  

In Scripture water also is a powerful image of God’s Holy Spirit and His righteous wrath. 

(See Isa 12:3; 35:6-7; 55:1; John 7:37-38; Hos. 5:10.)  In my little world, I have seen how thirsty I become when I will not come and drink. And I see too many thirsty folks decline God’s offer of free refreshment. (Isaiah 55; 65:2-5)

But I have sadly seen myself spout out too many words – like that opened water hydrant. Thinking I was offering help I may only have created unnecessary puddles for others to ford.  However, I know the blessed refreshment of words used wisely.  “ . . . Reliable friends who do what they say are like cool drinks in sweltering heat — refreshing!”  (Prov. 25:11-13 from THE MESSAGE)

Thank you all!

Hoping that you dear reader, and I will be refreshed in the word, by God’s Holy Spirit to refresh a thirsty world:  . . . Give a cool cup of water to someone who is thirsty, for instance. The smallest act of giving or receiving makes you a true apprentice. You won't lose out on a thing." (Matt 10:41-42 from THE MESSAGE)

P.S. Yesterday we hit 105 degrees, but low humidity  . . . It did not feel cooler for all the dryness. 

My Coffee Mugs

None but two of my coffee mugs match.  I brought these two back from our most recent trip to Maryland. They were twenty-nine years old early  this May. Made in Japan, their shape is unusual and their pattern is  cheery but restrained, and singular;  I’ve never seen them anywhere, ever again.  Their  plump shape and  whimsical dollops of color  have impressed almost everyone who used them, too:  their weight, shape, and colors – they even hold the right amount of coffee.

So, now they are in Texas, matching mugs that match  none of our other ones. Could the potter who threw them, the painter who embellished them, ever have imagined how priceless their little creations would become? For, when I open my kitchen cabinet and see them, they match so many memories – priceless memories. They  remind me of so many treasures – and just how far God has led me. ( 2 Samuel 7:12)

When I experience the unique “joys” age brings or,  when I wrestle with what faith in Christ means, Dallas doesn’t have many hills that challenge me to consider the source of my help. Amidst so many clamoring voices that bring me the news of local, national and international disaster – not to mention church failures –  my funny little mugs remind me of the wide places into which God has led me; they recall the loving kindness of so many people, and His unfailing help, as the memories they evoke awaken. (Psalm 16:5, 113:9)

I lift up my eyes to the hills--
      where does my help come from?
  My help comes from the LORD,
      the Maker of heaven and earth.

He will not let your foot slip--
   he who watches over you will not slumber;
       indeed, he who watches over Israel
          will neither slumber nor sleep.

 The LORD watches over you--
      the LORD is your shade at your right hand;
         the sun will not harm you by day,
              nor the moon by night.

  The LORD will keep you from all harm--
          he will watch over your life;
             the LORD will watch over your coming and going
               both now and forevermore. (Psalm 121)

My Address Book

My address book is one given to me so many years ago that it is held together by packing tape, and has as many white-outs as addresses. My daughter was young enough when I received it to think that copying the addresses from the old book to the new was fun – so I treasure it for the vestiges of her handwriting.  Even the lines that have been written over remind me of significant changes in the lives of those I love. As someone once observed, “It takes a long time to grow an old friend.” 

When I misplace it – I go into a dither: it’s the only “list” of friends I have – and it is a reminder of Christmas cards sent – birthdays – weddings – anniversaries – divorces  and sympathy notes.

    “. . . But if the while I think on thee, dear friend,
    All losses are restored and sorrows end.” ~William Shakespeare (Sonnet 30)

My address book reminds me, in ways a blackberry can’t, how fortunate I am because of so many others – and all they brought into my life.  In its own way it’s a diary, a journal of how much has changed in my life, and the people to whom God has connected me. 

    “Friendship is unnecessary, like philosophy, like art . . .  It has no survival value; rather it is one of those things that give value to survival.” (C.S. Lewis)