Clinging on

Hanging out the load of wet towels, I noticed the voluptuous growth of the honeysuckle planted there years before. Having trailed rather forlornly across the stone dyke, it finally found a tree to which it could cling, winding round and round, held securely in wind or storm by the strength of the tree trunk.

I was about to say that I feel a little like a wet towel, but that wasn’t the point of this anecdote!

When not anchored to something strong, we can wander all over the place. We are weak and easily breakable. We can be trampled and we can be nibbled at. It’s only when we cling to God that we have strength to face whatever comes at us. The honeysuckle grew quietly, nearly invisibly, until one day I noticed where it was. May my faith continue to grow without fanfare; may it grow increasingly dependent on God, incrementally, until that day when I meet Jesus face to face, and he greets me with familiarity and delight.

I can do nothing without him, but with him, I can do everything.

Honeysuckle

Sometimes beautiful bushes grow ‘like weeds’ too. It is so exhilarating to see that happening.

Around here, it’s the honeysuckle. The fragrance, wafting my way on a warm breeze about 8 am as I walked Dusty down the drive, is intoxicating. We bought a honeysuckle bush years ago and it is growing profusely over the ‘shed’ which housed the well pump in days gone by. Don took cuttings and put one down the driveway, and one at the end of the driveway, and both now stretch lazily along the stone fences for yards and yards. 

We should perhaps call the house ‘Honeysuckle Haven’.

Then, waiting for Dusty to catch up with me along the pathway, I noticed a honeysuckle of different colours crawling its way up a tree on the edge of the woods. And again, returning along the road, there it was again, blooming exuberantly right beside ‘our’ wild redcurrant bush (which we pick every year and I make jelly from). 

My neighbour hasn’t got a sense of smell. Neither does another friend of mine. How much they miss out on, being unable to smell the heavenly aroma of the honeysuckle.

Paul wrote to the church in Corinth, encouraging them to spread the ‘aroma of the knowledge of Christ everywhere’. ‘For we are to God the pleasing aroma of Christ...’

May we live lives which exude the pleasing aroma of Christ to God the Father, and bring a smile to His face.