Into the Fire

Summertime reflects my husband’s experience with flowers. He plants them, and they grow. To walk out on our front porch is to be sheltered by teeming lavender and dark purple clematis overlapping lattice work and every other thing in their ever expanding path, the brilliant flowers creating a magnificent and delicate wall of color. Beneath them and hanging in between their clusters are snap dragons, peonies, petunias, azaleas, and others of which I’ve forgotten their names. Just a bit farther down from the clematis is the star jasmine sending its scent throughout the porch area and out into the front yard while establishing an iron grip around different rungs on the other piece of wooden latticework. Next to that waterfall of jasmine flowers come the red roses. Three bushes. Two of them have the sweetest smelling brilliant and true red roses. The other is a tough rosebush that has been through the wars of transplants, takes its time to bloom as if it’s a genuine effort to do so after its rough life. The red has more of an orange tint to it and virtually no smell, but it’s a pretty flower. Across the yard are the dahlias, an orangish-yellowish variety, shooting up strong after looking dead even in late spring.

Me? I’m the water-er. I’m not a planter. I love the results, but gardening isn’t my thing. My husband is surprised he gets so much enjoyment out of it, and he really doesn’t do fanatical things with the flowers. Neither of us knows how to prune anything. I cut back the clematis after the worst of winter has passed, but other than that, we don’t know how to properly care for the flowers. And yet they reward us with their beauty come summertime.

I marvel at the Lord’s creativity. The intricacy of design and scent and color. To think we’re allowed a fraction of His beauty in our spirits to share in his creative genius. Think of it. We share only a glimpse—His fullness would overload us to implosion. We cannot contain even a portion of His grandness. Just a splash of His generous doling of talents and gifts, and we experience overwhelming admiration for His grace . . .

God, you are indescribable, beyond what I can think or imagine, greater than my mind can conceive. I’m so thankful for that! Who would you be if I could define you? No, you exceed every grand idea of man. You are . . . the great I AM. I love you, Lord. Thank you, Jesus, Praise you, Holy Spirit. Glory to God. Amen.