Seeds of hope

Garden of hope

SEEDS OF HOPE

“I will praise you, O Lord, with my whole heart. I will show forth, recount and tell aloud, all your marvelous works and wonderful deeds.” Ps. 9:1 Amp.

Seeds of hope even when I see nothing green. Even though the seeds are small, dry, hard, I hope for grand things. I envision green plants, huge and prolific with ripe fruit of tomatoes, peppers, corn, hanging on the vine. I can taste it.

My hand sprinkles the seeds in the soil and tosses dirt to cover them. The soil keeps the seeds safe from the birds and cold. I trust the sun and the rain to nourish and grow my seeds of springtime hope.

Sowing seeds of hope. Thanksgiving. Every day, all the time, in everything. Isn’t that what thanksgiving is? Seeds of hope? Especially when I don’t see a green thing. Nothing good in a situation. Dry, dusty soil. Pain at every turn. Thanksgiving then is pure hope.

Maybe it’s not a great catastrophe, but I wake up feeling sore from riding, a headache from too much sun. Or maybe the heat in the afternoon is humid and stifling and I must work till sweat is running and dirt sticks. Even though the sun is shinning, the world looks gray today. Ever been there?

Not a green thing in sight. No bright flowers blooming. So what do I do? Grumble? Complain? Growl? Most likely.

What if instead, I sowed some seeds? Seeds of hope. What if I thanked God? Thanked Him for the gorgeous morning after the storm, the great rain last night, the fantastic show of lights in last night’s storm. It was amazing! Continuous lightening like a million flashbulbs going off in the dark clouds. Wild, stupendous, wondrous! Definitely a God show.

I have tons of things to be thankful for and as my mind fills with these—a wonderful ride yesterday, a great friend, a good horse, gorgeous country—I forget about the sore muscles, the heat and even the headache.

I see the wonder and the gifts. The joy my grumbling stomps under, bubbles to the surface. I see the wonderful creation and an even more amazing Creator. I see, I know, I feel the love of the High King of Heaven and earth in my soul.

I see sprouts. With watering of praise and sprinkles of prayer and nourishment of trust in the King of Kings to handle all my cares, I see plants flourishing.

Green, vibrant plants of peace. Alive, delicious fruits of joy. Hope blooming with vibrant flowers. All from tiny seeds.
Thanksgiving.
Seeds of hope.

“I will rejoice in You and be in high spirits! I will sing praise to Your name, O Most High!” Ps. 9:2 Amp.

Last year’s garden

Blooms

Ride in the badlands