Even the Weakest

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I almost missed it. The rose on the diminutive plant in the foil-wrapped pot sat on a shelf in the corner of the shop. Elaborately decorated artificial Christmas trees lined the aisle, grabbing all the attention.

It couldn’t have been more than an inch across, this tiny delicate rose, but in the midst of manufactured razzle-dazzle tinsel and bauble it humbly declared integrity from its cradle of dirt. The rose was real, living, growing, opening to the winter light streaming through a dusty window.

I almost missed it. But then I didn’t.

Thank you, little rose, for sharing joy just by gathering the light from a single sunbeam as you sing your song on an out-of-the-way shelf. I see you. I hear you.

Lo, how a rose e’er blooming from tender stem has sprung.


Human strength and the weapons of man
are false hopes for victory;
they may seem mighty but they will always disappoint.

The eyes of the Lord are upon
even the weakest worshipers who love him—
those who wait in hope and expectation
for the strong, steady love of God…


As we trust, we rejoice with an uncontained joy
flowing from Yahweh!

Let your love and steadfast kindness overshadow us
continually, for we trust and we wait upon you!

(Psalm 33: 17, 18, 21, 22 The Passion Translation)

No Platitudes, Please

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“Hope means hoping when things are hopeless, or it is no virtue at all… As long as matters are really hopeful, hope is mere flattery or platitude; it is only when everything is hopeless that hope begins to be a strength.”

~Gilbert K. Chesterton

It’s hard to know what to say sometimes, when things go horribly wrong. And yet we feel the need to fill in the silence by saying something, anything. I wonder if more pain is inflicted when, in the absence of hearing any wisdom from above, we fill the blank with our own words. It’s not that bad. Look on the bright side.

Sometimes it is that bad. Sometimes darkness threatens to smother us. Sometimes evil appears to triumph.

You can’t forgive pain you haven’t acknowledged. You can’t heal what you won’t diagnose. You can’t rebuild until you assess the damage.

Hope, real hope, doesn’t mean averting your eyes. Hope, real hope, means looking right at that pain, that threat, that diagnosis, that shattered home, that failed dream, that loss, and sitting in the silence of the shocking aftermath.

Hope means choosing, in time, to rise in the place of hopelessness, to set your face like a flint, and come, just as you are, into the Presence of the Holy. Hope means you can say, ‘Nevertheless.’

‘I am tired. I am hurting. I am frail. Nevertheless, I will not let my faith be shaken to the point where I refuse hope. Nevertheless, I will call upon my You, Lord, for You are my light and my salvation. You are my strength. You are my God. I trust You. I believe Your promises. I believe in You.’

The Lord is my help

I will not be confounded,

So I have focussed my face like a flint.

I’ll not be ashamed.

Lord, I come  — just as I am.

~ Fernando Ortega


A Gift

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Sometimes you are out in the backyard taking photos of sweet peas and sheets on the clothesline just because the flowers smell wonderful and the warm sunlight and shifting shadows are interesting.

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And then a hummingbird hovers in front of your lens just long enough to snap a shot.

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Thank you, Lord. What a lovely gift.

Every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of the heavenly lights, who does not change like shifting shadows.

(James 1:17 NIV)