Just the beginning . . .
Before you ask, “Yes, I know it’s no longer the Christmas season, and I’m not still humming Christmas melodies.” I simply thought it was a catchy title for my musings this morning.
Back in the fall, the weathermen warned us that because of El Nino, this winter would be unseasonably wet and cold. So far, they’ve been inaccurate on both accounts. I’ve been walking these hills jacketless for the last three weeks; and overnight, we finally had the promised rain which has eluded us for a couple of months. But weathermen remain a subject for future musings.
Seems that Spring has been flirting with us since late January. Not only has the flirtation enticed me to open my glass doors and let the warm breezes blow through the house, it has coaxed my Meyer lemon tree to bloom. Inhaling the perfume of those blossoms gives me another reason to open the doors—amazing the robust fragrance from such mere purple buds that open to delicate white flowers.
When I look at those blossoms though, I don’t just see spider-like white flowers attracting the local honey bees. I see Chicken Piccata in the skillet and a slice of lemon pie on my favorite desert dishes. I taste lavender lemonade. I feel the thin skin of that lemon in my hand. I reach for the jar of preserved lemons in my fridge. When I look at that flower, I know what its future will be, and I’ll watch its progress every day. I’ll protect it from the wind and possible hailstorms. I’ll water the plant and feed it just the right fertilizer. I’ll want to jump up and down when I see the first hint of a real lemon. Oh, I enjoy the flower, but I really look forward to what it will become – what it was meant to be.
Somehow I think that just might hint at how God looks at us, seeing and knowing the persons He created us to be. He brings the sunshine and the rain and the nourishment into our lives to help us in our becoming. And just as He provides the bees to pollinate the lemon tree, He brings people into our lives to cultivate and help us bear fruit. In the meantime, in our fragility as blossoms, wouldn’t the world be a better place if we were producing the fragrance of grace, peace, humility and mercy?
Finally the fruit – sorry there’s no lemon pie!
