by Cathy Baker | Faith |
The Garden
The kale’s
puckered sleeve,
the pepper’s
hollow bell,
the lacquered onion.
Beets, borage, tomatoes.
Green beans.
I came in and I put everything
on the counter: chives, parsley, dill,
the squash like a pale moon,
peas in their silky shoes, the dazzling
rain-drenched corn.
-Mary Oliver, “New and Selected Poems”
New and Selected Poems is one of my favorite poetry books and of course, I love Mary Oliver’s work. “Puckered sleeve”, “like a pale moon” and “in their silky shoes” are all underlined in the book.
Was there a word or phrase you particularly liked?
by Cathy Baker | Faith |
Mr. Rice was a close friend of my grandparents and the local elementary school principal way back when. He’d often stop by their home for a quick visit, to the delight of my grandparents. My reaction as a seven year-old, however, was quite different. I’d make a run for the bathroom, lock the door, and sit on the edge of my grandparent’s pink tub until I heard his old pick-up crank. He was as nice as they come, but he had a habit of pinching my cheeks so hard they’d leave marks on my face for minutes. His pinches spelled P. A. I. N. and I wanted no part of them.
Yesterday morning, I turned the radio off, peeled back the roof and talked with the Lord on my way to church. At one point, when asking for forgiveness, the word “lazy” spilled from my lips. It caught me off guard. So much so that I proceeded to say “Well, I don’t know if that’s the right word or not, Lord. I hope it’s not.”
Fast forward about an hour.
Our pastor, Jason, was speaking PREACHIN’ on discipleship. It was the best sermon I’ve ever heard on the subject and we’re only in our first week of the series! At one point, when sharing why some lack the transformation desired in their lives, he asked Could it be that you’re simply lazy? (I can’t quote it verbatim because I was too busy thanking the Holy Spirit for making it perfectly clear that I HAVE been lazy in certain areas of my walk with the Lord.) It’s not something I wanted confirmed, but I desperately needed a pinch of clarity and conviction.
Like Mr. Rice, the Holy Spirit’s pinches can unleash a sharp pain. Not physically, but spiritually. His pinch, however, always spells L.O.V.E.—even when it hurts—for His pinches also leave a mark. An indelible mark. The mark of Christ.
For the Lord disciplines the one he loves…
Hebrews 12:6
The gospel is not opposed to effort [spiritual disciplines, serving, etc.] but it is opposed to earning.
-From today’s sermon
by Cathy Baker | Faith |
Who wants to use a stove on these hot August days? (Me either!) Simply stir up some of this goodness, slide them in the fridge, and voila! A yummy breakfast awaits. A summer delight, indeed.
Thanks to Monica over at The Yummy Life, I’m sharing a fave recipe – regardless of the season.
Check out the flavors packed in small clear Mason jars:
Mango Almond
Blueberry Maple
Apple Cinnamon
Banana Cocoa
Banana Peanut Butter
Raspberry Vanilla
Eight more summer YUMMY flavors
here.
Which flavor sounds the yummiest to you?
Raspberry Vanilla has won me over.
by Cathy Baker | Faith |
I picked up a copy of Working the Dirt at the library and was immediately drawn to this poem by Marcia Camp. After all, summertime and Farmer’s Markets go hand-in-hand, right?
Farmer’s Market
It isn’t okra cut small and tender the way
we know it should be, or
tomatoes whose imperfections declare them
simon-pure, or
peas bursting from their purple hulls
(their remembered anthem sung on summer-
morning streets,
“Peas…”with soft refrain, “already shelled”)—
we come for none of these, though we ask the
price at each tailgate.
We’re here to see hardy faces (our parents and
grandparents with different features)
smile a warranty on produce knowing hands and
bent backs coaxed to life.
We tender crisp dollar bills, drop quarters
into calloused palms and
purchase affirmation.
For we need to hear the vernacular of hill,
prairie and delta in
words carefully weeded from our city talk;
have our nostrils sting from manure on boots,
smell musk of frying bacon lingering in work shirts.
Only here can we feel Dallis grass switch our ankles,
blackberry briers claw our legs,
hear the night call of the whippoorwill,
see its red eye pierce the dark, and
know that we did not dream childhood.
– Marcia Camp, “Working the Dirt, An Anthology of Southern Poets”
My favorite line? “For we need to hear the vernacular of hill, prairie and delta in words carefully weeded from our city talk.” Rich.
Do you have a fave?
by Cathy Baker | Faith |
Lord, I just pray that…
Lord, I pray that You would just…
The word just crept into my prayer vocabulary without much notice—but now, when spoken, it becomes as obvious as the three earsplitting screeches heard when the Emergency Broadcast System conducts their weekly test, no doubt during a favorite show.
After all, consider the definition:
Just: adv [dʒʌst (unstressed) dʒəst] no more than; merely
My prayers were actually saying: “Lord, I merely pray that…”
As Christ-followers we’re given freedom to pray for all things (from the smallest of desires to the deepest of struggles.) Our prayers, however, are not ushered into the presence of One who desires to do “just enough” in the lives of His people.
Perhaps there’s no one word in your prayer life that triggers such a thought, but have you considered that you too may be asking God for just enough of something instead of praying in expectation for God to do something amazing?
The prayer of a righteous person has great power as it is working.
James 5:16
by Cathy Baker | Faith |
DAY 30: SERVE A STRANGER
Thankfulness beckons us to discover the wonders of God. The wonder of gratitude isn’t just found in expressing thanks to God but also to each other. Find a missionary or person in the military that you, a friend, a family member, or church knows. Write a letter expressing gratitude, encouraging this person serving overseas. Consider asking if there’s anything the person needs and sending a care package. You may even want to pray for the person regularly. Live the wonder of gratitude by expressing thanks to a stranger.
– Margaret Feinburg, Wonderstruck
