Since late last year it has begun to look like things are on a downward trend.  Before long there may very well be more surgeries, even riskier than before.  I usually cope fairly well, but one morning the blues hit particularly hard.  I was out with Chloe and came upon the morning glories.  We saw more blooms that day than any before, at least five shades of blue and purple, and a lilac-throated white as well.

            Why I did it, I don’t know, but I began assigning names to each blossom, names of people who have been special blessings to me during this journey toward blindness.  At first I thought I would run out of names before I ran out of blooms.  Higher and higher my eyes roamed, spotting another and another, and yet another bloom ten feet above the ground.  When I ran out of blooms I still had a dozen names left over.

            Suddenly my steps became springier and my mood brightened.  Look how many people have been there for me, driving me all over, picking up medications for me, sending cards, calling, bringing meals, giving me an encouraging word, and often a hug, even helping me with some of the earlier expenses that the insurance company wouldn’t touch, and always praying. 

            “My grace is sufficient,” Jesus told Paul when he had prayed for the thorn to be removed.  “It doesn’t need to be removed; you just have to trust that I will help you through it.”  He has certainly given me ample help.   

            Too many times, instead of looking up to count the blooms, I am looking down to count the weeds.  Do you know what?  There were far more blooms than weeds that morning, and it is so in my life as well.  In fact, some of those blooms once were weeds, but through the grace of the Lord working in our lives, the two of us managed to make a new relationship that we both count as blooms now.  In some cases, the grace that made this happen were the very trials we prayed to have removed.

            So today, as you walk through your life’s garden, don’t look down and count the weeds.  Look up and count the blossoms that hang from the vine of Christ’s grace, the grace he promised would help you overcome, would make you stronger, and would cover any weaknesses you still might have after giving your all.  Put a name on every one of those blossoms.  I imagine you will have names left over too, names you forget about when your mind stays too long in the weeds, people who have made the hard times easier to bear, and who will hold you up when life beats too hard for you to stand on your own. 

            God is the reason those blooms are there, as He sheds yet more grace into your life, promising that nothing will happen that is too hard for you to bear, and that you will never have to bear it alone.        
 
Fear not for I am with you; be not dismayed for I am your God; I will strengthen you, I will help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand,  Isa 41:10.
 
Dene Ward

A few mornings back Keith and I took our last cup of coffee to the carport and sat in our nylon lounge chairs, the kind with the attached pillow you can flip over the back if you do not care to use it. We did use them, both of us, and leaned back, watching the mockingbird flit back and forth to its nest in the bloom-laden rose trellis and the hummingbirds guard their two feeders like Fort Knox. A couple of squirrels ran along the “highway,” a route they use every day from one live oak top to another, down the limbs and across the fence.  Off in the distance a hawk screamed, a rooster crowed, and a wild turkey gobbled.  Occasionally we flipped a treat out for Chloe to chase.  It was still the middle of spring, cool and bugless, humidity low for a Florida morning, low enough that the scent of jasmine reached us from the vine a good 75 feet down the drive. 

After twenty minutes or so, we got up to start our morning. As soon as Keith stood, a snake slithered out from under his pillow, down the back of the chair and dropped onto the carport. Our chairs are only six inches apart. If that thing had stuck its head out between us from under the pillow, judging by the roar when he saw it, Keith might have had a heart attack, and I might still be running.  Talk about “Flight Paths”—I would have made a good one.

Guess what we do every morning now?  That’s right. We flip those pillows back and look under them before we sit down.  People say habits are hard to break.  We didn’t have a bit of trouble breaking ourselves of sitting down before we looked.  Depends upon the motivation, I guess.  Maybe that’s why we have such a hard time breaking ourselves of sinful habits—we enjoy them too much, or we just don’t think they are that important.

From another perspective, we didn’t have a bit of trouble creating a new habit either.  Same reason—motivation.  I really do not want to think about a snake lying under the pillow I am leaning my head against, or the possibility of it slithering down my back, do you?

So why can’t we make new habits to rid ourselves of that besetting sin in our lives?  Can’t I learn to pray for self-control before I leave the house when I know I have trouble behind the wheel?  Can’t I learn to recite a few passages about longsuffering and kindness just before I walk into a meeting with that particularly obnoxious colleague?  Can’t I learn to avoid situations that I know will tempt me instead of purposefully putting my soul in harm’s way?  Of course I can, if I care enough, if I believe God would want me to do so, if I think of Him instead of me and my stubborn will. 

AND, if I believe that Satan is real, that he is out there trying to find a way to make me fall.  He is, you know.  He is right under that pillow, waiting for you to sit down without a care in the world and lean your vulnerable neck back into reach of his fangs.

Change a habit today.  LOOK! before you sit down.
 
But put on the Lord Jesus Christ, and make no provision for the flesh, to gratify its desires. Rom 13:14
 
Dene Ward