Our family was gifted a trip to our beloved St Louis, MO this summer where we spent three years at seminary. The Missouri Botanical Gardens was one of my favorite places to visit and still is!
““I cannot think of a single thing in my life that doesn’t bear the touch of others. I’m guessing you can’t either. Of course we wish some of those chisel marks never happened—the ones that draw from us a plea for mercy, the ones that kindle a hunger for the renewal of all things. But other marks have been necessary to give us eyes to behold goodness, truth, and beauty we would not have known otherwise. Living with limits is one of the ways we enter into beauty we would not have otherwise seen, good work we would not have chosen, and relationships we would not have treasured. For the Christian, accepting our limits is one of the ways we are shaped to fit together as living stones into the body of Christ. As much as our strengths are a gift to the church, so are our limitations.” ”
Our summer has been full, and what I imagined would be a summer of leisurely writing and more focused work on the crafting of words has ended up being quite sparse… like my apple tree this year. Nestled within the foliage of my tree there are apples growing, but not nearly as many as last year. I draw a correlation to my writing in this season. I can’t get there right now. Even my desire to write has languished this summer. Ah, limits. That’s right, I’m human. Though I want to get from point A to point B instantaneously, my legs can only carry my embodied soul there one little size 8 foot step at a time. So I enter into “the beauty we would not have known otherwise,” had my every wish and dream and accomplishment come true this summer!
Though there’s been a stillness here in my writing, our summer has not been still! So I will share some life-giving moments that have adorned our very full summer, including quotes from great books I’ve been reading.
Planting, replanting, repotting, and propagating have been a dusty, dirty, sweaty summer project these past few months. Our living room faces east and receives the sunlight into its embrace through several enormous windows. This is our plant room. I was never a great plant mama until we moved to this house. Now we have an abundance of natural light. We have mini monstera vines, a large monstera, two fiddle-leaf plants, of which one is a successful result of a propagation experiment, aloe, philodendron, pothos, and others. I may try fern this Fall. I grew up in the Fraser Valley of British Columbia where ferns grow profusely. I have cherished childhood memories spent amidst ferns, sitting beside green shadowed creeks where filtered light allowed one to see to the pebbled streambed through frigid clear mountain water. I distinctly remember turning over fern blades beside my elementary school to look for the miniscule spores, hid mysteriously from sight. Every hiking path was bordered by these luxurious plants. Even our home featured a hanging fern in our family room. I loved “helping my mom” by tending the fern, removing the dead leaves, and taking a scissors to it when I felt like it needed a haircut. Looking back, I’m not sure I was really helping! I have not had good success with growing a fern at our home in the high desert dry climate due to the intense heat of summer and constant need for moisture and shade outdoors. But I am determined to try raising a fern indoors in the Fangorn Forest that is becoming our living room.
This fiddle-leaf is a successful propagation from our mother plant.
Limitations are found everywhere, whether in our schedules, our projects and plans, or our weather and climate. I think the above quote is profoundly refreshing if one reads it with contentment and a deeper gaze into its meaning. Our limitations are a gift God has given to us, and it orients us to our Creator on whom we daily depend. We can find much rest and purpose in accepting our limitations if we can see the loving intention of the One who created us to be who we are designed to be.
This is another successful propagation from a mini monstera vine. The mother vine got pruned this summer, but in its glory, she grew round and round a chalkboard sign I had in our dining room, and then around a painting I found at the thrift shop. It always reminds me of the fantastical novel by Christine Cohen, The Sinking City, where the magician’s house is filled with magical vines.
I’ll be 47 this year. It boggles my mind that I can be this old already, but the signs are all there: the silver linings are growing deeper into a full-headed “crown of glory” as Psalm 16 reminds me, and I’m choosing to keep those gray hairs. Others choose differently, but I want to experience the natural way. There is a joy in that for me. My 20/20 vision of which I have so long been blessed with has been noticeably changing, so I picked up a pair of reading glasses one day from the dollar store, and was amazed, simply amazed by how much better I could see! Clearly things are changing, and that’s okay. Contentment is a form of beauty and when we can be quietly content, there is a peacefulness that no spa experience can manufacture. There is a peace that comes from being content in God’s presence. That peace cannot be purchased, it can only be received, and it only comes from Jesus who offers it freely. In all the changes that come with getting older, I can rest in Christ and trust the process. I can depend on Him. I’m enjoying reading this book mentioned next by John Andrew Bryant. It speaks to those who suffer in ways that Christians have a hard time talking about. So I’m thankful for his voice into these hard things, and the hope it gives.
“There may come a day when we cannot be sane or capable, when we cannot be stable. But there will never come a day when we cannot be a Christian. Because a Christian is someone who depends on Christ, who can be quietly changed by depending on Him. We are assured that to depend on Christ is to be given Christ, utterly and completely. If we can depend on Christ with every horrible thing, then in the midst of every horrible thing Christ will give Himself to us, and by giving Himself to us, give us back to ourselves. In this way, even anguish and distress have been a transfiguration. In this way, every moment can be a transfiguration.””
Art by Lilias Trotter
As I’ve been reading throughout this summer a variety of books (Rembrandt is in the Wind to my tweens and teens, Phantastes by George MacDonald, The Way of the Sevenfold Secret by Lilias Trotter, Anne of Ingleside, Evidence Not Seen) I’ve also been mentoring some ladies through the book Life-Giving Leadership by Karen Hodge and Susan Hunt. This is the second time I’m reading through it, and goodness me, it is so marked up already, highlighted, underlined, notated, with coffee mug stains and creases, that I might as well just highlight the entire book. I’ve never read a leadership book so saturated with the good news of Christ’s work accomplished and how that affects our leading of others and our covenant community life with our local church body.
“So, with the prayers, guidance and help of that leadership team, we developed a biblical apologetic of womanhood and of woman’s place in the church with an emphasis on Titus 2 discipleship. This women’s ministry narrative flows out of the sound doctrine that God is our reference point, His Word is our authority, and His glory is our purpose.””
This book is a fountain of mentorship for those willing to learn and grow from its wisdom. I will just share one more quote here and maybe write more later. But for now…
“Life-giving leaders know they are nothing more than a tiny grain of wheat, called to a unique place of dirt where they are to die. We die to our fears. Perhaps it means dying to our reputation, or comfort or convenience. Maybe it’s dying to our plans, dreams, and agendas. Life-giving leadership is sacrificial. It’s costly and it’s daily. It’s glorious and it’s significant. It’s life-giving because it abides in Christ and bears gospel fruit.”
That is all I have time for today! Perhaps this Fall season, words will come more easily and I may be more present here. But alas, the bread must be baked, books must be read, and a dog must be walked! ;) Ah, but it is so good and life-giving to write a few thoughts down here too!
Blessings and may you walk with the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit today!
My Night Sky Petunias! When you look at them, it’s like you’re looking into the night sky!