May Day.
Remembering Mrs Reims, the dear old lady who always bought
whatever my sister and I had made and were selling door-to-door, encouraging us
to return to her with whatever didn’t sell and she would buy the rest, be it
neighbourhood news-sheets we wrote, mud pies we made, or napkin flowers with
some lemon drops in the middle.
On May Day, she was the first neighbour to be given our
annual homemade May baskets filled with flowers from Mom’s garden. We would
hang the basket on her door handle, ring the bell and run away. She knew where
they came from.
After my walk with Mary this morning, I continued into the
woods to spend some time with God. Those have been ‘my’ woods for over forty
years, and the Lord has heard many a cry from my heart there over a whole
variety of things. He has also heard many a song of praise from a thankful
believer who sees his hand in everything – or at least, tries to see his hand
in everything.
I noticed the channels widened so enthusiastically by three
of my grandsons and their daddies several months ago. It lies clogged again,
dammed by the detritus of twig and leaf, mud and rock, washed there in winter
and spring storms. The water is sour, unable to run free and clear, purified
with oxygen and movement.
It is so easy for my spirit to become dammed by the detritus
of life, of harsh words or isolation, of unintentional snubs or fears of the
future, of anxieties and responsibilities. Lord, I come to you on this Monday
morning, asking you to do what my sons and grandsons did to that ditch in the
woods and clear away all the accumulated detritus. I want your clean, clear
waters, purified by the oxygen of the Spirit, to run freely through my spirit,
mind and body. May others, in looking at me, be refreshed by a nuance of You.
Take away the stench of stagnant waters
Thank you for this day. Thank you for the joy of this
moment. Thank you, Jesus.
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