“
Laurel had watched him prune.
Holding the shears in both hands,
he performed a sort of weighty sarabande,
with a lop for this side,
then a lop for the other side,
as though he were bowing to his partner,
and left the bush looking like a puzzle.”

— Eudora Welty, The Optimist's Daughter

Some in our family are “panicky pruners.” When my husband prunes our trees, my son and I sense the immediate need to rush outside and supervise. We’re reluctant because we fear his cuts will be too drastic. Yet, the trees flourish.

When people visit our area, they comment on how green everything is. Our climate is a bit like living in a greenhouse. In a few seasons, pruning becomes a necessity.

This year my husband cropped our two-story lilac to under five feet tall. Now it’s pumping out new growth like a champ! The apple trees, too, have taken a hard pruning and produced the best apples for savory pies we can find anywhere. 

Our pruned lilac

After my husband gently pruned the Japanese Maple in early spring, it sent out crazy shoots that overtook the patio canopy. Now it’s time for more aggressive measures.

I must admit, I’m a converted pruner. I don’t wince about it as I did before. However, there is a kind of pruning that I still resist. It’s God’s. His pruning can hurt. One way I experience His pruning is when He doesn’t answer my prayers as I think He should. How could He take from me what seemed obviously good? And how will He make good come from the devastation that He’s allowed?

I’ve run into the wall of God’s sovereignty many times, and it doesn’t budge. When our wills collide, He refines me. He prunes away my stubbornness and pride. He corrects the assumption that my plan is best and shows me that my help is not needed for things to turn out right. He prunes me down to the core of my faith.

“He cuts off every branch of mine that doesn’t produce fruit, and he prunes the branches that do bear fruit so they will produce even more.” John 15:2 NIV

This transformation is grueling. God tests my sincerity as I pray The Lord’s Prayer, “Your will be done.” He teaches me humility, surrender, and obedience. 

Perhaps you are resistant like me. Do you struggle with yielding to God’s will at times too? I know it can be agonizing.

It has helped me to ponder Jesus’ example. He sweat blood as he surrendered His will to the Father at Gethsemane. Through His obedience, Jesus brought many sons to glory. And His victory over sin and death still bears fruit today! 

As His disciples, we will bear fruit, too, as we surrender our lives to God’s purposes. Pruning is part of getting there. Hopefully, we’ll learn to trust Him when life doesn’t make sense—believing that His plans are eternal and good.

In time, we’ll thrive like masterfully pruned trees—fruitful and glorious!

“When you produce much fruit, you are my true disciples. This brings great glory to my Father.” John 15:8 NIV

“Being assertive does not mean attacking or ignoring others’ feelings. It means that you are willing to hold up for yourself fairly—without attacking others.”

— Albert Ellis

A couple of things went wrong today that made my palms sweat. My dental hygienist accidentally damaged my tooth when she pried off the temporary crown next to it. This was minor, compared to solving the tree problems that came next.

I hurried home, where a tree service company was working in our yard. Before the crew arrived, I had written to the owner for clarification on the bid but hadn’t received a reply. When I observed the crew’s progress and asked a few questions, I realized we had different plans. 

Instead of pruning the deciduous trees all the way around as I wanted, they trimmed back just one side near the roof. They told me the other side would cost more money. Then, although the quote said, “Remove two cypress trees,” the crew thought it meant cutting down just one tree with a double trunk. (I had called the office to clarify this while driving to the dentist, and the secretary interpreted the owner’s bid as I had, that it meant TWO trees). Lastly, I learned that grinding the tree stump and removing the wood was not part of the bid. Altogether, it would cost $4,500 more to do what I thought was already included. I winced thinking about it.

Frustrated, I called my husband. We decided to cut the job short, and he would do what he could himself. 

I informed the crew, sent a quick email to the company, and followed up with a phone call to the office. “If you cancel trimming the hedge,” the secretary explained, “we will have to charge you more for what the crew has done because we based the estimate on volume.”

She put in a call to the company’s owner, who quickly showed up at our home. 

Recently, I’ve been honing my skills of being more assertive and expressing what I need. Perhaps God saw I’d benefit from more practice!

In this case, I was frustrated enough to show my annoyance, but I decided to confront the owner calmly without being a jerk. We looked at his estimate and my email together, and I pointed out the discrepancies. “You didn’t reply to my email to clarify the bid.” He nodded in agreement and apologized. We talked about the options and amicably settled on what his crew would finish. 

During our conversation, the owner said something about his top employee that sparked a connection in my mind. He praised his arborist’s skill level saying, “He never lets the tree get the best of him. He finds a way to master the tree, to fall it safely.” In other words, he’s cool under pressure. 

What a good example of how I want to be with my emotions. 

Confronting others requires boldness and tact. My default is to either avoid conflict or get mad. Today, I found a balance and spoke the truth respectfully.

I wonder how great our impact would be if we, as a Christian community, treated people with self-control and honor, even when we believe our anger is justified. 

How do you treat people when you become frustrated?

What if we learned to be cool under pressure? It’s a skill worth developing. Imagine what incredible ambassadors for Christ we could be. 

“Be wise in the way you act toward outsiders; make the most of every opportunity.  Let your conversation be always full of grace, seasoned with salt, so that you may know how to answer everyone.”

— Colossians 4:5 NIV

A long time ago, I decided to stop complaining about the weather, or so I thought. In jest, I continued to joke that in the Northwest we have two seasons, summer, and the rainy season. It really does rain nearly nine months of the year! But, that little bit of joking, ehm… is still a complaint.

Spring in Washington came late this year. It was unseasonably cold outside, about ten degrees cooler than average. This kept me in my down coat through April. I would cheer myself and say, The law of averages must come into play; it has to get nicer eventually. Now, here we are in May, and it’s 85 degrees today!

The glories of spring this month have made me eat my words. Spring burst forth in a grand crescendo. The alder, maple, beech … every dormant tree thrust their bright green leaves into the sky announcing their presence right before my eyes. I couldn’t help but marvel at their power and beauty. How can all this life happen all at once? The fragrance of cherry blossoms, lilacs, and Pieris waft in the air. If you stop to think about it, spring is mesmerizing.

After admiring it all, I felt a bit speechless–like Job. He admitted to God, “Surely, I spoke of things I did not understand, things too wonderful for me to know.” (Job 4:3 NIV) Sorry, God. Me and my senseless complaints.

If my words came true and there were only two seasons, I would have missed SPRING! 

Usually, the story we tell ourselves is partly true. There are plenty of bad things to focus on around us. But what if they don’t represent the whole picture? What if we’re focusing on what we don’t have, without any acknowledgment or gratitude for what we do possess? Even in the really bad times, there’s good, quietly existing right before our eyes.

In my most difficult season, I purposefully looked for the good around me and wrote it in a grateful journal. This daily routine kept my head above water. 

Practicing our gratefuls is a wonderful habit to survive the dark times, and to experience a happy life. I didn’t say a perfect life, but a life we can enjoy, even when times are difficult. We can be grateful for others, for what we have, and for what we take for granted. Eventually, our minds will become full of wonderful thoughts, and every conversation sprinkled with gratitude—no matter the weather.

What good things have you overlooked lately? Have you let grumbling rob your joy?

Gratitude takes effort. But it’s worth it!

“Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things.

”

— Philippians 4:8

“Uppie!” my granddaughter, Lucie, said as she reached her arms toward me. As soon as I scooped her up, Lucie pointed in the direction she wanted to go. We walked our usual route around the house. She said hello to the quail décor perched high on the windowsill, played a few keys on the piano, and then pressed the buttons on the dryer so they beeped. I enjoyed every moment of indulging her wishes. Uppie, short for “up, please,” is the cutest phrase I’ve ever heard. It works like magic, even when I’ve just sat down. 

It reminds me of my son years ago when he asked to be picked up. He would say, “Hold you” instead of “Hold me.” He learned it from my asking him, “Do you want me to hold you?” when he reached for me. How sweet that children’s earliest expressions often convey their desire to be held.

Not everyone is held when they yearn for it. Sometimes the reasons are unintentional and temporary, such as when parents are busy. However, in some families, parents seldom hold their children, which leaves them yearning for assurance and connection. No matter our age or circumstance, we need comfort, security, and love. Whether young or old, we all need to be held. 

During one season as an adult, I experienced a painful betrayal and desperately needed comfort. I felt unloved and rejected, and I needed to be held by a love that would never let me go. I meditated on God’s Word until it saturated my soul. Whenever my heart ached, I recalled verses from memory and sensed His protection and care. Sometimes I tangibly felt God’s presence envelop me with His peace and love. I would sit and soak in it. Looking back, I marvel at how an invisible God comforted me in that way. 

During that season, these verses became my favorites:

“He will cover you with his feathers, and under his wings you will find refuge; his faithfulness will be your shield and rampart.”

— Psalm 91: 4 NIV

Photographer Unknown

“So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.”

— Isaiah 41:10 NIV

“Even though I walk through the darkest valley, I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me.”

— Psalm 23:4 NIV

“He tends his flock like a shepherd. He gathers the lambs in his arms and carries them close to his heart; he gently leads those that have young.”

— Isaiah 40:11

During that season, a dear mentor of mine gave me the picture of a momma bird covering her two chicks (above), to remind me of God’s loving care.

Whether your soul desires connection, like a child who simply wants up, or is heavy with sorrow, I hope you will soak in the comfort of God’s love today. Rest assured, whenever you reach for Him, He will gladly respond. 

Attachment: 'God You've Never Failed Me' by Ian Yates

“What kind of tea are you choosing today?” my sister asked as she held the menu in her delicate hands. Her posture matched the cruise ship’s elegance as she perused the options. While on vacation with our husbands, we slipped away in the afternoon to enjoy tea together.

The ship’s terrace, called the Winter Garden, toyed with our senses as it felt cool and airy yet simultaneously warm with natural light. The bright Mediterranean sun shone through the ceiling of pale wooden ‘branches’ and shimmered its reflection from the sea through the windows.

Servers delivered three-tiered plates of dainty sandwiches and macarons while musicians gilded the atmosphere with the cello and violin. It was fancy, and my sister Lori and I loved every bit of it! After we discovered the 4 pm teas, we returned daily choosing a different tea and seating location each time.

What made the teas so enjoyable was that we relished the pleasure with equal delight. Our time with our husbands involved different experiences, but the teas were a “sister thing!”

On the last night, after a delicious dinner with our husbands, I said to our group, “I want to show you a room we haven’t experienced yet, the Explorers’ Lounge.” We’d made it a point to enjoy every space the ship had to offer, and this was the last one. We wove our way to the bow of the ship and into the cozy nautical-themed lounge.

Photo by Viking

The guys played a game of chess while Lori and I peeked through the telescope and admired the harbor’s landscape. Eventually, we all wandered onto the deck for our last view of Athens’s lights shimmering in the night. It was the perfect ending to our remarkable vacation.

Savoring moments together made our time and memories sweeter.  I think the ship’s crew, designers, and chefs would have enjoyed observing us as we appreciated every little thing.

Back home, reminiscing about our vacation, I wonder if God enjoys seeing us muse over His creation. Sometimes I tell Him, “That’s a beautiful sunset. You’re such a great artist.” Or “I like how You made the smell of blackberries linger in the air.” I imagine His pleasure when I appreciate life, people, and places He has made.

What if I included God in more conversations and experienced life’s joys with Him? With a little practice, I imagine our fellowship could be sweet, like the moments we treasure with each other. How incredible to have God as a friend like that!

Quote by Hailey Furlan

I set my eyes on a spot on the wall ahead of me as I stood posed for a spin on the high beam.  I wound up, pushed off with my rear foot, and spun until my eyes returned to their marked location. My foot landed in the lead as I steadied my position. This is how I learned my spins as a young gymnast years ago. It all began by marking the spot.

Recently, my husband and I forgot about the “marking your spot” trick while traveling in a foreign country. As the tour bus pulled to a stop in the Plaka District in Greece, our guide gave us a map, repeated the bus’s hourly schedule, and pointed out the huge landmark nearby to help us find our way back. Tour guides are good at repeating things for people like us. We got it, took a mental picture of that giant arch, and went on our way. Unfortunately, we never saw it again.

We decided that rather than shopping, we wanted to see the Acropolis which was, “straight that way.” We walked through the huge maze of quaint shops and restaurants, through neighborhoods, up and around a hill, and reached the top where the Acropolis stood high over the city.

After enjoying the view, we decided there had to be a better way down. We ended up in a different part of the Plaka district, lost. Our map didn’t help because we didn’t know where we got dropped off. There was no “X marks the spot” on it. Even the locals were having trouble finding where they were on our colorful map. Maybe it was more of a caricature than a tool. After multiple requests for help, and lots of walking, we gave up on the bus idea completely, and gratefully found a taxi back to the port!

That map, the language barrier, and our misplaced confidence threw us for a loop that day. Yet, I have faced much harder difficulties than being lost in a foreign country. My marriage and health have taken some big hits, and if it wasn’t for God and His Word, I don’t know where I would be. He restored my marriage and later, my body, from cancer. During those seasons I needed a place to fix my eyes. I needed to know the way home. It’s because of God that I didn’t completely lose my footing.

Today, if you are in a trial of your own, I hope you will mark your spot. It’s not a place on a wall, or an X on a map. It’s a person; it’s God Himself. 

He’s the One who will help you through.

“Let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us, fixing our eyes on Jesus, the pioneer, and perfecter of faith.”

— Hebrews 12:1b-2a NIV

“Twinkle, twinkle, little star,
How I wonder what you are!
Up above the world so high,
Like a diamond in the sky.”

— Jane Taylor

Photo by Klemen Vrankar

During the hot days of my childhood summers in Hayden Lake, Idaho, my siblings and I often deserted our uncomfortably warm bedrooms to sleep outside for the night. We tumbled on makeshift beds of foam mattresses and sleeping bags until the night grew dark and cool. Sleeping outdoors became a favorite pastime, especially during the month of August, when meteor showers flooded the sky. To our delight, dad would join us on the deck and entertain us for a while. We’d roll onto our backs and gaze far into the distance; the stars seemed to go on forever, becoming smaller and smaller as they disappeared into space. He’d help us find the Milky Way and the Big Dipper, sing silly songs, and teach us the poem to wish upon a falling star. 

“Star light, star bright,
First star I see tonight,
I wish I may, I wish I might,
Have this wish I wish tonight.”

— Anonymous

My sisters and I were serious star gazers because whoever saw a shooting star first, would get their wish. Fortunately, there were many falling stars. We would fall asleep wondering: How did the stars get there, what are they, and how do they stay in place?

The majesty of the universe still amazes me. It’s difficult to fathom that there is no known edge to its limits. Brilliant scientists have used complex mathematical equations to calculate the boundaries of the universe and find its center, yet they’re unable to determine either one. This is mind-boggling to me.

One community, in jest, claimed to be the center of the universe. In 2004, the mayor of the small mining town of Wallace, Idaho made this proclamation:

“I, Ron Garitone, Mayor of Wallace, Idaho, and all of its subjects, and being of sound body and mind, do hereby solemnly declare and proclaim Wallace to be the Center of the Universe.””

— Ron Garitone

The manhole cover marking the location is at the intersection of Bank and 6th Street. The community leaders cited the theory of probabilism, asserting if it can’t be disproved, it must be true! Antics like this entertain me, so of course, I found the spot this summer while in the area and snapped some pictures.

Maybe some would apply this same theory of probabilism toward God: if you can’t disprove Him, He must be real. I don’t think anyone can disprove God’s existence. However, there is a better way to know He’s real. Every living thing tells of a magnificent Creator—from the smallest cell of our complex bodies to our planet Earth to the infinite galaxies. Our world’s order, complexity, and beauty are staggering to consider. Its very existence speaks without words.

“The heavens declare the glory of God; the skies proclaim the work of his hands. Day after day they pour forth speech; night after night they reveal knowledge. They have no speech, they use no words; no sound is heard from them. Yet their voice goes out into all the earth, their words to the ends of the world.”

— Psalm 19:1-4 NIV

The natural world resounds with God’s glory. It’s as though he left His signature on everything we see.

As a child stargazer, I didn’t know much about God. Yet how wonderful to ponder that way back then, in my little hometown, He was revealing himself to me… with every twinkling star in the blackest night sky.

Photo by Greg Rakozy

“Lift up your eyes and look to the heavens: Who created all these? He who brings out the starry host one by one and calls forth each of them by name. Because of his great power and mighty strength, not one of them is missing.
”

— Isaiah‬ ‭40:26‬ ‭NIV‬‬

“I don’t always feel fierce and fearless, but I do feel like I’m a rock star at being human.”

— Tracee Ellis Ross

My tee-shirt reads, Human Kind, Be Both. I chose it because I like the play on words and the encouraging message. However, on the days I wear it, I realize kindness isn’t always easy.  Now, I often joke, “This shirt mocks me.” Fortunately, I wasn’t wearing it golfing the other day, although I might as well have.

Sunshine lit the manicured green course, and fir boughs streaked the fairway with shadowed arms. I felt grateful to golf on such a gorgeous summer morning and hoped to play a good round. Our group finished the first hole and enthusiastically pushed our carts toward the second tee box. Suddenly, a ball whacked my bag. The ladies playing behind us sheepishly crept in our direction, unable to retrieve their ball without finding it at our feet. 

Annoyed, I grumbled, “They didn’t even yell, ‘fore.’ It could have hit me.” I teed up my ball while mentally rehearsing how they should have waited until we were out of the way, and then at least yelled a warning. 

Good thing I was occupied as they got closer; I would have regretted my unkind response. The woman apologized profusely to my partners as she self-consciously moved her ball off the cart path. My friend was the epitome of grace to her. She said, “We didn’t hear you yell.” The woman said she had, but we didn’t hear her.  “That’s okay, it happens to all of us sometimes. We’ll need you to yell louder next time.”  I admired my friend’s kind and forgiving response, feeling grateful I hadn’t said a word.

Ironically, I had journaled the previous morning about my desire to avoid judging and criticizing others. The lesson was to remove the figurative plank from my eye before worrying about the sawdust in someone else’s. (Luke 6:37-42). I had prayed for God to show me my blind spots—it didn’t take long! 

Realizing my error, I squirmed with conviction and wondered how many times I had done something similar. What balls did I hit too close? What golf etiquette rules had I broken that aggravated someone else?

On the course that morning, I became freshly aware of my double standard and was reminded again how challenging kindness can be. I’m grateful for my friend’s example and that God doesn’t leave me where I am.

Maybe it’s time for a new tee shirt slogan: “It happens to all of us sometimes.”

The Confectionery, University Village, Seattle WA

“I really believe that coincidence is God’s way of remaining anonymous.”

— Bill Moyers

I’m thrilled by chance connections and events. The more unique the coincidence, the more I smile in wonder at God. As I reminisce over the many twists and turns of this story, I feel joyful all over again.

A few years ago, while on errands with my sister in Idaho, I noticed a sweet older couple as we walked behind them into a department store. He wore a flannel shirt, cowboy hat, and loose denim jeans. She was a bit more refined, dressed for errands in a purple blouse and polyester pants. Her curly hair looked neatly coifed as if a beautician styled it that morning. As they walked in, his gait was bowed and clunky while she was more sure-footed and intentional. He held her hand, and with the other, he carried her purse. I imagined this was their routine, the man serving his wife and the woman enjoying his company. I pulled out my phone and snapped a quick photo. 

As an aspiring painter, I often took pictures and practiced recreating them later in watercolor. At home, I studied this delightful couple’s photo, sketched their images on paper, and filled in their forms with paint. The background of the store’s concrete structure didn’t match the couple’s charm. Instead, I imagined a nostalgic setting and quickly found what I envisioned by doing a Google search. It was a Confectionery Shoppe, complete with old-fashioned lamps, a red checked exterior, and tasty treats tempting viewers inside. With a few minor tweaks, I went to work recreating them in that scene. 

Months later, I met a girlfriend for lunch at University Village in Seattle. This outdoor mall was new to us and seemed like a good location to meet halfway. We meandered in and out of the shops and then paused to chat on a sunny bench outside. My breath caught in my chest as I took in the scene across the road. It was the Confectionery!

I sat studying it, certain it was the one I had painted. Elated, I excitedly told my friend the story. “Can you believe it? It could have been anywhere in the world, but it’s here! What are the chances?!”

Of course, I couldn’t wait to tell my sister and show her the painting on our next visit. She looked at it thoughtfully and said, “I recognize them! They were customers at the shop where I used to work.”

“What? Can you find out who they are and give them my painting?” Several months later, her former co-worker saw the man again and offered it as a gift. Being a sentimental fellow, he took the painting gladly. 

God knows the things that delight us. I imagine Him musing with anticipation at every turn of this story. Perhaps He thought, “She’ll be tickled by this…and this…!” And I was! 

Have you experienced coincidences that you knew were God-incidences? I’ve heard some people call them “God winks.” Whatever they are, they remind me that God sees me, knows me, and delights in me.

I hope your God-incidences spark joy and wonder in you too – in the God who sees and enjoys you.

“The LORD your God is with you, the Mighty Warrior who saves. He will take great delight in you.”

—  Zephaniah 3:17a NIV

Although a few years have passed since this story concluded, my sister occasionally notices this darling couple walking about in town. He still holds her hand and carries her purse. 

Photo by Carol Aichele

“Only one life, yes only one, soon will its fleeting hours be done”

— C.T. Studd

A friend of mine paints Plein Aire fine art with oils. This French expression means “in plain air” which describes the outdoor setting from which the artist paints. When on location, Carol sets up her easel, dons her apron, and studies the scene. Taking in a deep breath of fresh air, she dips her brush and softly begins outlining the composition. Compared to an image painted from a photo, Carol’s certain her Plein Aire paintings portray the essence of the setting more accurately. “In nature, I see and feel my subject more vividly. The changing light gives the painting more dimension. Even the subtle wisps of mist come alive on my canvas.”

I love how artists appreciate an image.  If you enjoy taking pictures, then you too are a fan of something. One year, while on a wintery vacation, our family played a simple photo contest with our phones. We captured stunning and silly photos with the hope of being awarded the best shot. I can still remember my favorite pictures as if our vacation was yesterday.

Photos, home movies, and diaries all help us value the moment and keep our memories alive. I remember when the kids were little, and a camera wasn’t close, I would take a mental picture in my minds-eye, hoping to impress the memory in my heart. What if we savored our lives, and relished every part like an artist does of the scene they paint?

As a person of faith, I also take pleasure in pondering God’s word and enjoying His presence. I’m intrigued by the ancient stories told in the Bible. Many years ago, on a dark and starry night, God used the magnificent sky to illustrate his promise to Abram. With no light pollution to dim his view, masses of stars saturated the expansive sky. I wish I could have heard God’s warm, low voice nudge him, “Look toward heaven, Abram, count the stars if you can.” I imagine Abram, eager to try, became lost in the challenge, mesmerized as the stars shrank deeper and deeper into the distance. Children, more numerous than the stars? Oh, the thought of it!  The sky, and now his heart, beautifully resounded with God’s promise.

Nature, life, and the promises of God are all worth savoring. It’s good for our souls.

What if we let go of our busy thoughts and enjoyed the moment? We could become fully present in a conversation, savor a delicious meal, smell the rich aroma of coffee, and soak in the beauty of earth’s natural wonders? What if we paused to listen to a child’s laughter, look for the whimsical, and ponder the sacred?

Oh, life, don’t pass me by, I only hold you for a moment.