Day 59, February 28

Yesterday I wrote about sowing and reaping. It appears that I am not yet finished with that theme.

One of my favorite hymns contains the words "We are sowing, daily sowing, countless seeds of good and ill ..."

Let me share with you some individuals who are sowing seeds of good.

Every night before bed, our oldest son reads to his two young sons, ages six and three. The boys are energetic, frequently restless, but they know that this is "reading time with Dad." He is sowing seeds of a love for reading.

A sweet friend volunteers every week in a community preschool. Her children are long since grown. She does this out of a love for all children. She is sowing seeds of service.

Another friend tries to bring one of her children with her whenever she takes a meal to a family in need. Her children witness her quiet acts of compassion. She is sowing seeds of a good example.

Who knows where these seeds will land, what they will reap in years or eternities to come? The hymn continues, "Seeds that sink in rich, brown furrows, soft with heaven's gracious rain."

So, for today, I am grateful for seeds "blessed with heaven's gracious rain."

Day 58, February 27

Though we traditionally think of harvest during the autumn rather than spring, my thoughts have turned in that direction.

Last fall, my husband and I planted bulbs--tulips, daffodils, and crocus. We live in hope that they will brave the brick-hard dirt that passes for soil in our yard and bloom in spite of it. What we know for certain, though, is that nothing will flower without first being planted.

Farmers and true gardeners understand the relationship between sowing and reaping. The connection is an imutable one: without sowing, there will be no reaping. It set me to thinking about sowing other kinds of seeds. Does sowing kind words reap the same? Does sowing charitable deeds reap more charitable deeds?

I believe so.

In similar manner, sowing unkind words and selfish deeds will probably reap an unwanted result. I know of an unfortunate individual whose harsh words and unpleasant manner causes others to avoid him whenever possible. In contrast, I have a friend whose generous heart and caring manner give joy to all those around her.

So, for today, I am grateful for the Law of the Harvest.

Day 57, February 26

Winter in Colorado is a fickle creature. Temperatures can reach into the sixties on one day and plummet to below zero the next. A down parka may be needed in the morning while shirtsleeves are right for the afternoon. As I say to my husband, "Colorado weather changes faster than a teenage girl's moods."

Before our last snow, I spied specks of green against the chocolate brown of the dormant flower beds. Further inspection revealed that shoots of spring flowers were pushing their way up through the ground.

To appreciate the miracle of this, you need to understand that our dirt is not the rich soil of which gardeners dream. It is cement-hard clay. Despite having manure, top soil, and compost mixed with it, this dirt resists all our attempts to soften it. For tender shoots to push through it takes stunning audacity, yet they persist.

Family members and dear friends are even now pushing their way through the hard dirt of life. They face health problems, unemployment, and other challenges. Like the first signs of green in a garden, they find the grit to force their way through the hoary frosts of winter. They move forward with courage, determination, and, most importantly, faith.

So, for today, I am grateful for the first shoots of spring that defy winter ... and people who do the same.

Day 56, February 25

Lately I've been thinking about families. As many definitions of family abound as there are different types of families. There is the nuclear family, of parents and one or more children. There is the multi-generational family, a la Waltons. There is family as described in the Bible, where somebody is always begatting somebody else.

Just like people, families come in all shapes and sizes. Around the corner from us is the family of two parents and seven young chidlren. Across the street is a family just starting out with a newborn baby. Single individuals comprise their own families, as do empty-nesters.

Families are born of the blood, as defined in the Bible. They are also born of the heart. In our family of five children, our younger daughter is adopted. She is our daughter of the heart. My oldest son has two adopted boys. All are loved; all are wanted; all are family.

Let me share with you some other families:

For nearly thirty years, my husband and I have belonged to a dinner club composed of six couples. Every month, we meet at different homes, every couple contributing part of the dinner. We have seen each other through the birth of children and the birth of grandchildren. We have grieved with each other over the loss of parents. We had borne each other's burdens as we experience heartaches over children, suffered financial setbacks, endured health problems. We rejoice with each other; we weep with each other. We are family.

Another family is that of our church. We worship together. We learn together. We tithe together. One person's problems become of that of the congregation. Meals are brought at the birth of a baby ... and the death of one. Casseroles and love are served up in equal measure. We are family.

Yet another family is that of neighborhood. Our neighbors have watched our children grow, from rollerskates to Mustangs, from playdates to prom dates. We share garden produce and snowblowers. We bring in each other's mail and water lawns. We watch out for children and pets. We are family.

Yes, family is a matter of blood. More, though, family is a matter of the heart and of the spirit. The only ingredient necessary is love.

So, for today, I am grateful for families, wherever they are found.

Day 55, February 24

I spent the last week in Utah visiting with my sister. While there, I helped tend her three-year-old granddaughter, Lily. Lily delighted me with her imagination, exhausted me with her energy, and filled me with awe over her total ability to wring joy from every moment.

That is not to say that she is not without her sad times. She can be a drama queen at times, but she quickly recovers. She lives completely in the present. How much time have I wasted because I live in the past, regretting poor choices, holding onto old grudges? Similarly, how much time have I wasted because I project into the future, worrying over what might happen?

Certainly, we must learn from past mistakes. To do less would be foolhardy. We must also think about the future. But neither of these should prevent us from living now.

Finding joy in the present in not always an easy task. When health and financial worries threaten to overwhelm me, I slide into gnashing-my-teeth mode. When family problems cause my heart to weep, I cannot help but wonder what the future will bring for those I love.

Life is hard, but every day brings pops of joy and bursts of laughter, opportunities to serve and people to love. Lily, with three-year-old innocence and wisdom, reminds me to look for those pockets of happiness.

So, for today, I am grateful for the example of a three-year-old.

Day 54, February 23

I feel I should preface this entry by apologizing for returning to a recurring theme: that of creativity. Today is George Frideric Handel's birthday. Though he was born over 300 years ago, Handel continues to live through his music.

Handel wrote dozens of operas, arias, and other compositions. However, one stands out as his masterpiece: Messiah. Sometimes incorrectly referred to as The Messiah, Messiah has touched and continues to touch millions of people.

In 1741, Handel was destitute, deeply in debt, and severely depressed. Some spark inside him, though, moved him to write what would become his most enduring legacy, not just to the world of music but to all mankind.

Was it the text he chose, largely drawn from the Book of Isaiah? Was it the music that repeated through his mind with ever-increasing intensity? Or was it that he received divine inspiration to blend the powerful words with the equally powerful music?

I like to believe that it was all three. Could Handel have created such beauty without divine help?

It set me to thinking about my own feeble attempts at creating. When I turn to the Lord for His help, I feel the words flowing with an ease that amazes me. When I ignore Him, my mind--and heart--are stalled.

So, for today, I am grateful for Handel ... and for the spark of creativity that resides in all of us.

Day 53, February 22

In the last week we have been bombasted with ads for Presidents' Day sales. I wonder how many of us rememmber which presidents this day is supposedly commemorating. I can't help but be saddened that though Martin Luther King receives his "own" day, Abraham Lincoln and George Washington, two of America's greatest leaders, have been lumped together in one generic day that is more likely to be celebrated with furniture sales than with any true remembrance of them.

Today, February 22, is George Washington's birthday. Washington wore many hats in his years of service to America. Before the United States was the United States, he fought in the French and Indian Wars where he distinguished himself with bravery and valor. When the Colonies united against British tyranny, Washington was chosen to lead America's ragtag troops against the well-trained English army. Again, Washington served with quiet bravery, leading his men to victory against all odds.

At the end of the war, the Colonies decided they wanted a king and demanded that Washington take upon himself that scepter of power. Washington refused and, instead, allowed himself to be elected as President.

Many portraits have been done of Washington. Washington crossing the Delaware River. Washington as President and Commander-in-Chief. My favorite portrait, though, is by Arnold Frieberg, depiciting Washington kneeling at Valley Forge.

The circumstances were grim at that moment. His troops were hungry, wore threadbare garments, and were outnumbered by a superior army. Washington did the only thing he could. Humbly, he knelt and begged for the Father's help, not only for his men but for the fledgling nation that was struggling through the pains of birth.

Soldier. General. Statesman. President. Washington did them all. What's more he did so with dignity, honesty, and integrity, qualities far removed from most of the politicians of today.

So, for today, I am grateful for George Washington ... and for his wisdom in seeking Divine Help.