A Faithful Friend

It’s always a part of the morning routine,

A sleepy shuffle through the kitchen, sliding open the blinds and then the sliding door to let the dog out,

I yawn and stretch, turning my eyes to my faithful friend standing there,

And I smile.

Her, my favorite little pear tree that we planted shortly after moving into this house. It’s only an ornamental tree, no big, juicy pears to pluck and enjoy in the fall, but still, she ministers to me.

Standing tall, waiting to greet me with a cheerful “hello”, a constant I can count on, but at the same time, ever-changing. 

I witness the change when she surrenders thick leathery leaves, drops of golden amber, in the late fall.

And observe another transformation as her bare branches shiver in the winter winds, and she humbly accepts sparkling covers of ice and snow, diamonds for her slender frame.

Soon, I behold her warming up to springtime, when she blushes her thanks with thousands of brilliant white blooms, exquisite veils of fine lace befitting a gorgeous wedding day.

And when the temps rise high, I glory in her branches stuffed full with the brightest green leaves, emerald cups held up high to catch the summer rains and to pour out welcome shade to all that lies beneath her.

No matter the season, as the cycle continues on, I’m always delighted to see lots of little birds perching in her branches, not far from the supply of seed that we offer all year round. The flutter of feathers and the sweetest of songs add even more vibrant life to her branches.

I look at that tree, and I worship.

I worship my God who made this little tree, I give Him thanks, and I stand in awe.

He is the One who made the sun, and the moon, and the stars that swirl around her day and night, and He made all of the seasons that change her. He is the One who made me, who made my heart, and gave me eyes to see so much more than a tree,

I see the changes in me.

I daily rediscover His perfect love for me looking over at that little tree, 

and I worship.

I see how she stands with quiet confidence, roots firmly planted in the ground, branches reaching high toward heaven, always pointing up, pointing to Him, and she compels me to do the same.

She also reminds of the wood of an ancient tree, wood that held His hands and feet, and I weep. My sin, the nails that drove in deep, His blood, the only way to wash it clean.

And I wonder, if one day when I stand in the most beautiful garden with my Savior next to me, looking wondrously upon the tree of life, if for just a moment, I’ll be reminded of that little pear tree,

And I’ll give Him thanks once more for my favorite little tree,

and right there face to face,

I’ll worship.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Now the Lord God had planted a garden in the east, in Eden; 

and there he put the man he had formed.  

The Lord God made all kinds of trees grow out of the ground—

trees that were pleasing to the eye and good for food. 

In the middle of the garden were 

the tree of life and the tree of the knowledge of good and evil.

- Genesis 2:8-9

-  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -

My heavenly guide brought me to the river of pure living waters, 

shimmering as brilliantly as crystal. 

It flowed out from the throne of God and of the Lamb, 

flowing down the middle and dividing the street of the holy city. 

On each bank of the river stood the tree of life, firmly planted, bearing twelve kinds of fruit 

and producing its sweet crop every month throughout the year. 

And the soothing leaves that grew on the tree of life provided precious healing for the nations. 

No one or nothing will labor under any curse any longer. 

And the throne of God and of the Lamb will sit prominently in the city.

God’s servants will continually serve and worship Him. 

They will be able to look upon His face, 

and His name will be written on their foreheads. 

Darkness will never again fall on this city. 

They will not require the light of a lamp or of the sun 

because the Lord God will be their illumination. 

By His light, they will reign throughout the ages.

- Revelation 22:1-5 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Linking up with Kelli and a beautiful community of bloggers over at Unforced Rhythms today.

The Shepherd

**************************************************************

The Lord is my shepherd,
I shall not want.
He makes me lie down in green pastures;
He leads me beside quiet waters.

He restores my soul;
He guides me in the paths of righteousness
For His name’s sake.

Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,
I fear no evil, for You are with me;
Your rod and Your staff, they comfort me.
You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies;
You have anointed my head with oil;
My cup overflows.
Surely goodness and lovingkindness will follow me all the days of my life,
And I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever.

~ Psalm 23

**************************************************************

I’m coming back to this familiar verse tonight, seeking the comfort that it brings.

I’ve been wandering, I can feel it…  

And He knows it…

This God who always sees me, always sees my heart, and still…  

always loves me.

Such amazing grace, undeserved and unending.

And I pray. . .

Dear Lord, please be the shepherd

To this prideful little sheep,

Who’s wandered far away again,

Sowing what I’ll reap.

Planting seeds of sinfulness

In soil rich with lies,

Doing what the world so loves,

But that which You despise.

I feel the pride in me so deep,

Stealing joy that You would give,

If only I would trust Your Word,

And by Your Spirit live.

Forgive me for not seeing

Every blessing You have given,

To this tired little lamb,

Still wandering far from heaven.

Take me now into Your arms

And hold me close I pray.

Remind me just how lost I am

When I have gone astray.

Help me to surrender now

And always to Your will.

Teach my heart to hear Your voice

And my spirit to be still.

Jesus, my Good Shepherd,

Lead me on to follow You,

Walking in obedience

To the life You’ve called me to.

© 2008 Julie Jablonski

Linking up at Kelli's beautiful place again, Chronicles of Grace.

A Mother's Prayer

A Mother’s Prayer

Thank You Gracious Heavenly Father
For making me a Mother
Each child a precious gift of life
That You’ve made like no other

Their design known in Your mind
Before the world began
And knowing how they’d change my life
Was all part of Your plan

Thank You Lord, when they were born
You changed me in my soul
And I marvel how You’re changing them
While in this world they grow

Please give me needed wisdom
To guide them through each day
Praying for Your Light to shine
On paths to show the Way

Bless their lives along each road
With desires from their heart
The deep ones that You placed inside
Their spirits from the start

I know life’s never easy
And they will trip and make mistakes
But You are there to catch them
When my heart for them just breaks

Lord if You choose to take me home
Before their lives are through
I pray that I have taught them well
And they will turn to You

Trusting in Your promise
That they’ll see me once again
Forever with You in heaven
Where You’ve made a place for them

Giving thanks to You for all You do
Our Gracious Heavenly Father
And thanking You, I hope as well. . .
That I had been their Mother

© 2008 Julie Jablonski

Starlight

Starlight falls and my hands open wide to catch it,

to hold it

for just a brief moment before the wonder and beauty

pass slowly through my fingers, 

and my heart aches for more. . .

More time, more moments, more memories, more chances, more giggles and hugs from my precious little girl – the one who is not so little anymore.

How does time go so fast? How have twenty-one years passed by and those deep brown eyes that once looked wide up at me for answers are now looking deep into her own wide-open future?

How have the little hands that once held so tight to mine grown into those of a beautiful woman who will make her own marks on the world?

How can it be that one day all too soon, my aging hands will be right there next to hers, helping to pack and mark the boxes she’ll bring to a new place, a new home?  

Ouch! Isn't home just where your mom is?!

It’s hard to let go, and already I know a part of my heart will feel as empty as the room she leaves behind, and after my precious treasure, hauls away her treasures to new destinations, some of the sparkle in my life will be gone.

But I would never want to hold her back, so I will silently acquiesce to reality, and even as these thoughts bring sparkles of tears to my eyes, I know it’s a part of my growing too.

I haven’t been the perfect mom, there’s no such thing, but I have loved her deeply and she has blossomed into a woman of beauty with deep love to give of her own. Her spirit is amazing and she has grown resilient and strong, yet still at times, surprisingly vulnerable and fragile and I love the way she is beginning to look at life. 

She has finally begun to look past those things that have scarred her and is realizing that broken can be beautiful and the things that she thought might just squeeze the life right out of her, have actually been part of the shaping of her soul.

It’s a broken world we live in, and there are broken-apart lives all around us, but often those tiny shattered pieces, the ones that many might quickly just throw in the trash, are the ones that suddenly catch and reflect the most brilliant light. If we’ll just pause long enough to notice, we may discover break-through moments that will make us catch our breath and finally see the beauty we would have otherwise missed.

There are so many lessons to be learned on this journey we call life and I’m grateful to be learning some of the hardest right beside my beautiful daughter.

As I reflect in my heart, I can see her like the starlight I couldn't hold long in my hand, and I am reminded that stars are never for the holding on to.

They are for lighting up the sky.

So I say, reach high and shine on my sweet girl!

Shine for all the world to see.

I love you.

Linking for the first time with the community at #unforced rhythms, hosted by Kelli Woodford. The community formerly meeting at Michelle deRusha's place.