It's the wrong time of year for a Christmas Amaryllis

And it's the wrong time of year for a Christmas JOY ornament

But God knows when HIS SEASONS are ripe for Harvest.

My friend (thank you, Mary) gave me this Christmas Amaryllis Bulb several years ago.  I followed her instructions, but no bloom stalk appeared.  I asked for more instructions; I googled "how to re-bloom amaryllis;" I watered, and I held back on watering; I placed it in the dark, and I placed it in the sun.  NOTHING.  Until this Spring.  Not Christmas, and not even Fall.  But this Spring when I have surrendered much of my place in the garden, God chose to bring the garden to me.

With whispers

                 And wooing

                              And longings

He awakens the Desire for HIS kind of Seasons, and HIS kind of pleasant Boundaries. 

Yes, I am still trying to learn that "Boundaries" word over here.  It has been a difficult week of 

sowing and breaking up ground that seems too hard to ever fall soft with the plow.

But then the Master Gardener parts the fog in my fibro-brain, and tells back to me my own story written years ago in the days of my Care-Giving-Lifestyle:

Another friend entrusted me to care for her Garden on the days she was away from it. This was her own dear Secret Garden, a place set apart from her normal day-to-day life, a Second Home near the Lake, and I was set to help it flourish in her absence.

But neither of us planned for that Summer-of-the-Heat.  Day after day the temps soared above the comfort zone for her newly planted Secret Garden.  The row of young Hydrangeas suffered the most: wilting every afternoon and fainting even in the evening.  I spent hours soaking those baby plants.  And as I watered, I grieved the pain and soon-to-come-passing of my cancer-ridden brother. Hemmed in with those thirsty hydrangeas, I soaked in the Love of God for my hurting brother.  

HEALING came to my brother when Jesus called him to Heaven.  And healing came to me as I poured out my tears alongside the water for those thirsty hydrangeas.

So, this week, when I chafed at the thought of ever learning how to live within the Boundaries set by my Lord, He spoke to me:

"You HAVE learned to walk My way. Remember the hydrangeas in the heat of the drought? Hemmed in, but not cut off, you watched as I helped you pour LIFE on their thirsty ground."

 

 

(Thank you to Janet G for letting me use her beautiful picture of her Secret Garden. This is the way these now-mature Hydrangeas define the Pleasant Boundaries of her Garden.)

We may not know which Season will bring our blooms again.  It probably won't be at the time we would have planned for it.  But we can be sure, God will bring the sun and the water when He knows the time is right.

Time for the Garden to Bloom with HIS new Gifts.

 "Let us acknowledge the Lord; let us press on to acknowledge him. As surely as the sun rises, he will appear; he will come to us like the winter rains, like the spring rains that water the earth." Hosea 6:3

I'm linking up today with The Faith Barista  
where my word is "Bloom."

 

"I will hear what God the Lord will speak: for He will speak peace unto His people."— Psalm 85:8. 

There is a voice, " a still, small voice " of love..
                                            Heard from above;
But not amidst the din of earthly sounds,
                                           Which here confounds;
By those withdrawn apart it best is heard,
And peace, sweet peace, breathes in each gentle word.
                                           ---Anonymous

This was the entry in my Devotional that night, echoing the very thoughts my counselor and I had agreed upon:  This is my Withdrawn-Apart-Season.  And if I would have had my way, THE SEASON would have been fulfilled months ago.  Time to get back to living.  Time to get on with PURPOSE.  But what if this IS my purpose for now?  This withdrawing into HIS Peace?

This time she asked me if I could count the Receiving-of-Love as a gift to be given to my Lover. And the question fell like raindrops onto my parched soul.  Of course I want my own gifts to be received. Of course I am overjoyed when those gifts are cherished. That cherishing becomes its own gift, given back to me.  So .... can I rest in the arms of my Jesus?  Can I see that MY cherishing of His Peace is welcomed by Him?  And can I let that be enough?

I wriggle and I squirm.

But it is here, in this rest that I hear Him.

Peace and Beauty: He gives it so freely to me.  Even in the garden that cries out for my labors:

He places a gift for me.   My friends know that I have named this place, "God's Garden."  Where He lets me join in His labors for a time.  But even those labors have been quieted this year.

And yet. . . .

The blooms were waiting there, for me to gather.  On my first day of being able to climb the hill that hindered these joints all winter, the flowers opened their faces for me.

And Jesus spoke PEACE to my soul.


I am linking up today with TheFaithBarista for her #OneWordCoffe. My one NEW word from the Lord is #Receive:

http://www.faithbarista.com/