Jesus, I’m not sure what to think of Your latest weather surprise, You sure took care of the leaves-on-the-lawn problem. Also, I no longer have to harvest tomatoes from the garden. Regardless of winter coats not yet drycleaned and where-on-earth-is-that-left-hand-glove angst, Your snow is lovely. OMG, it reminds me of Your love and forgiveness that can cover everything ugly and make it beautiful.
Jesus, shouldn’t these tomatoes have ripened, like, in August? They haven’t listened to me (‘STUPID TOMATOES, WHY DON’T YOU TURN RED?!!) Maybe I should have been a little more polite. Anyway, I’m thankful Your sun doesn’t give up on late bloomers and producers … and that Your Son doesn’t give up on me.
Jesus, thank You for the perfect campfire weather You gave us that made our backyard Neighborhood S’Mores Night possible. OMG, thank You especially for old friends and new with whom all could enjoy sweet treats and even sweeter community.
Jesus, thank You for the abundance of clothing You’ve given us. However, vacillating fall temperatures — plus, um, up-and-down size changes — have glutted our closets. Opening them, OMG, we fear for our lives!
Jesus, thank You so much that we were able to spend fun times with our son’s family. And OMG, after a spirited game of kickball in their front yard, thank You that we’re still able to walk.
O Lord, what a fun weekend. We visited our sweet granddaughter. Took walks in the woods. Worshipped You at church with dear friends. But today’s Monday, with piles of laundry, groceries to buy and I’m-behind writing projects to do. Worse, the bathroom scales — that invention of the devil — glare at me as if eating ice cream is a felony. OMG, I’m so glad Your love shows up even on a Monday.
Thank You, Lord, for Mrs. Rose of Sharon, my petite bush buddy in our backyard. She and I have faded as our summer blooming seasons have turned to autumn. But OMG, thank You that both of us can stick out our tongues at approaching winter because You’ve promised us Resurrection!
O Lord, after a six-week drought, I’d almost forgotten what Your rain symphonies sounded like, with percussive rumbles of thunder and gentle droplet harmonies. My flowers thank You, and so do I, as I’m sick and tired of their complaints.
One thing both flowers and this gardener have learned, though, during every growing/blooming season: whatever the “omnipotent” Weather Channel decrees, You are the one in charge.
Image by Shafin Al Asad Protic from Pixabay.
Jesus, thank You for a relaxing overnight getaway, an early birthday celebration for my husband — a lovely dress-up dinner out and a hike the next day. OMG, just once, though, I wish I’d remember to take photos when we’re dressed up instead of sweaty ones out in the woods. But You know how it is when I’m presented with a plateful of shrimp …
Jesus, I know You want us to take care of everyday business. But OMG, did You, too, take a little time to pick flowers with the neighborhood kids?
