Twenty-two thousand miles in space above me, in a geosynchronous orbit is a satellite. Combined with the dish on the roof of my garage, I now have access to the internet again.24 hour so
I can check my email, shop, catch up on friends and family, watch a video on appliance repair, or publish a new blog post.
I can accomplish all this because the satellite is always there.
It is always sending and receiving signals
on clear mornings,
as well as partly cloudy days,
on foggy mornings,
when the sun is shining,
and even when it’s not.
I sit at my computer and type, having faith that the words I enter will always reach a satellite that I can’t see, much less understand. I believe it is there because people (whom I will probably never meet) designed it, built it, and launched it on a rocket into space. It’s too complicated, too advanced for me to understand completely.
It is, after all, rocket science.
I also have faith that God exists and communicates with us, and we with Him, even though He is unseen (except in the incarnate form of Jesus).
The fundamental fact of existence is that this trust in God, this faith, is the firm foundation under everything that makes life worth living. It’s our handle on what we can’t see. Hebrews 11:1 MSG
Now faith is confidence in what we hope for and assurance about what we do not see. Hebrews 11:1 NIV
I believe the satellite exists because I see the results: news stories, new account balances, follow-up emails, invoices for packages that arrive in a few days.
I also have faith in the Lord, who is an unseen Spirit. I have faith in what I cannot see, because I see the results of the Spirit’s working in my life and in the life of others.
“You know well enough how the wind blows this way and that. You hear it rustling through the trees, but you have no idea where it comes from or where it’s headed next. That’s the way it is with everyone ‘born from above’ by the wind of God, the Spirit of God.”
John 3:7,8 MSG
Neighbors with a similar dish have warned us that heavy snow covering the dish will interfere with the signal. During such a snowstorm, the satellite is still there, still functioning, but the problem is on the receiving end. A quick brush with a soft broom should enable reception to return.
There’s often a problem on my part, when it comes to connecting with God, too. I am like the man who wanted healing for his sick son, but found his faith wanting. He pleaded with Jesus.
‘Oh, have mercy on us and do something if you can.’
‘If I can?” Jesus asked. ‘Anything is possible if you have faith.’
The father instantly replied, ‘I do have faith; oh, help me to have more!’ Mark 9:22-24
Jesus did have mercy on the man and his son and healed him.
Faith–it’s rocket science. I don’t have to understand or see everything to believe it.
My prayer for us all:
May our faith increase!
“Because you’re not yet taking God seriously,” said Jesus. “The simple truth is that if you had a mere kernel of faith, a poppy seed, say, you would tell this mountain, ‘Move!’ and it would move. There is nothing you wouldn’t be able to tackle.” Matthew 17:20 MSG
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satellite and rocket photo from exede.com, night sky photo by freedigitalphotos.net
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We’ve been without internet, but should have access in a week or so.
Hope to “see” you soon.
The house had been bulldozed, burnt, and buried weeks ago, and I’d never noticed.
I drove past this home every time I went to our nearby town, and still I hadn’t realized it was gone.
The contractor’s progress in building a bigger, new house a few yards away had distracted me. Am I like the proverbial ravens, attracted to shiny, new objects?
I try to pay attention to the old, the dying and dead,
but do I only notice the sparkling, the new, the contemporary?
Do I neglect to see the beauty and meaning in the small, the quiet, and the ordinary? A new day’s light illuminating grassy seed heads dipped in dew is still a miracle.
The geometry spoken into the heart of a flower is no less perfect because the flower is called a weed.
Are things too small to merit my contemplation, like the millions of dust particles that turned the western sky into a burnished sunset?
Do I look, but do not see? Is it a rebellious heart that overlooks the wondrous that surrounds me?
“Son of man, you are living among a rebellious people. They have eyes to see but do not see and ears to hear but do not hear, for they are a rebellious people. Ezekiel 12:2 NIV
Have I failed to thank the Lord for the vistas revealed this fall because they are so “ordinary.”
Do you have eyes but fail to see, and ears but fail to hear? And don’t you remember? Mark 8:18 NIV
Have I failed to pay attention to the glory at my feet, because it is expressed in common garden flowers and weeds growing in dusty gravel paths?
Have I neglected the everlasting love of God that surrounds me because I wasn’t paying attention?
Pay attention, come close now, listen carefully to my life-giving, life-nourishing words. I’m making a lasting covenant commitment with you, the same that I made with David: sure, solid, enduring love. Isaiah 55:3 MSG
My prayer for us all:
that we may have undistracted eyes to see
the physical beauty, the everlasting love
in all things, old and new, great and small.
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Let me tell you a story about a man named James Terrence John Molloy. J. T., as everyone knew him, was a traveling evangelist, and he had a wish.
When the time came for the Lord to call him home, he had a “druther.”
He wanted to be traveling on a road, going up to the crest of a hill and die at the top. J. T. said he would keep on going up the hill and on into heaven.
And he did. He lived a long life, preached the gospel, started churches, had children and grandchildren, and raised Poland China pigs.
One day on the way to visit his son, he died instantly of a heart attack
. . . in his car
. . . on a hill.
The car was still running when they found him.
J.R.R. Tolkien wrote of the journey of life in the Walking Song
the road goes ever on and on
I think about heaven as I travel dirt and gravel country roads, about following a road that begins in one world and ends in another.
The path of life leads upward . . .
Proverbs 15:24. NIV
This is what the Lord says: “Stand at the crossroads and look;
ask for the ancient paths, ask where the good way is, and walk in it,
and you will find rest for your souls.”
Jeremiah 6:16. NIV
In the way of righteousness there is life; along that path is immortality
That story about J.T., how do I know it’s true? He is my husband’s great-grandfather, and if I had my druthers, I’d keep going up the hill to heaven, too.
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I relaxed in a chair on my daughter’s patio, enjoying the sighing wind in the locust and oak trees, the musical jingle of wind chimes, and the warmth of the sun on my face. Then I became aware that I was being watched. A striped chipmunk sat at the edge of the patio’s cement pad, less than a yard from my feet. The chipmunk’s cheeks were bulging with small nuts, acorns, I surmised from the nearness of the oaks. He was a creature on a mission, on his way to store the nuts for winter, and I seemed to be in his way.
Perhaps the chipmunk was wondering if I was a danger to him, if he dared risk it. Certainly I was an obstacle. He must have decided I was a harmless sort of giant, because he scampered under my chair and around the corner of the building. He and another chipmunk (he and she?) returned in a few minutes, with empty cheeks. The pair made several trips, coming from the east with cheeks full and returning from the west after caching their harvest. They continued to scurry unafraid and undeterred underneath or just behind my chair.
Not everyone is as courageous as the chipmunks. In Number 13 we read the story of the spies whom Moses charged with scouting out the Promised Land. It was the beginning of the season to harvest grapes, and the men brought proof that this was a land of plenty.
they cut off a branch bearing a single cluster of grapes. Two of them carried it on a pole between them Numbers 13:23 NIV
The scouts all agreed that Canaan was a land of “milk and honey,” but full of powerful, strong people–the descendants of giants. Only Joshua and Caleb had faith in God and believed that they could conquer the land. The leaders pleaded with the people:
Only do not rebel against the Lord. And do not be afraid of the people of the land . . . Their protection is gone, but the Lord is with us. Do not be afraid of them.
Number 14:9 NIV
Do you remember how that story ended? Instead of entering a land where harvest was underway, the children of Israel spent 40 more years in the desert.
Fear is not the only obstacle in harvest. You must wait for the crops to be ready. The soybean fields on our farm are now a rusty-brown, and the golden stalks of corn have paled after being dried by a hard frost, but harvest may still be delayed. Farmers can check a sample from a field for moisture content to see if the corn or beans are dry enough to combine. If not, they may need to switch to another field that was planted with a different variety or to one that was planted earlier.
The harvest of souls is another matter. It’s impossible to look at a person’s heart and “moisture test” their soul to know if they’re ripe for “harvest” into the kingdom of God. Russell and Barbara Reed, American missionaries in the Philippines, must have thought that surely the time was right once they had overcome the obstacle of learning the language of the people. They wanted to reach a tribal group on the island of Mindoro. For months they searched for the people, eventually found a village, and started learning their language. Years passed and initial interest changed to rejection.
After nine years in the Philippines the Reeds, none of the tribal members had made a commitment to Christ.
That changed in May 1962. Traveling to the east again, they found a group of people with hungry hearts. Before long, seventy-five people were baptized, almost the entire adult population of three villages. What had made the difference? Centuries earlier a shaman had prophesied, ‘Someday white people will come here to teach us. Big people. And they will know our language. When they come, we must follow their teaching.’ This prophecy was passed down for 16 generations. When the leader in the east heard the Reeds speaking his language, he knew they were the ones for whom his tribe had waited more than 350 years.
from Telling the Gospel Through Story by Christine Dillon
Sometimes the obstacle to “harvest” for the kingdom of God isn’t time, it’s place. A friend of mine moved and now teaches in a different state. The leadership in her new community has brought in speakers with a positive message to talk in the schools. Recently, a daytime presentation was followed by an evening meeting, where the gospel was presented. This would not, could not have happened in her previous school, she explained.
The harvest in her small town was ripe. When the speaker concluded the evening presentation with an invitation to accept Christ as Lord and Savior, over a hundred came forward, and my friend was privileged to pray with some of them. She texted,
The fields are harvest-ripe here! Glory to God! We had many to pray with those that gave their lives to Christ, but not enough.
Do you not say, ‘There are still four months and then comes the harvest’? Behold, I say to you, lift up your eyes and look at the fields, for they are already white for harvest!
John 4:35 NKJV
Then [Jesus] said to his disciples, “The harvest is plentiful but the workers are few. Ask the Lord of the harvest, therefore, to send out workers into his harvest field.”
My “harvest” prayer for us all:
that we may be courageous when facing “giants,”
that we may be wise with our words (written and spoken),
that we may recognize the right time and place to share the good news,
and that we may remember that God is the Lord of the harvest.
* * * * *photos of grape vines by Barb Briggs * * * * * Linking with
Not planted, yet sown
buried by debris swept off the sidewalk,
a sunflower grew tight beside the white porch railing.
A seed sprouted and stretched tender leaves toward the sun,
turned its veiled face to the east,
unfurled golden flags of ray petals,
waved emerald leaves in the breeze,
welcomed the soaking rain,
opened its seedy heart wide
and grinned a spiraled smile.
I joyfully watched the accidental sunflower grow and change from a castaway seed to a mature bloom. I saw the bees’ pollen-laden visits, the spider’s trapeze web, and the grasshoppers’ hungry gnawing.
I saw the ray petals burn bright gold and then fade and wither as the seed hulls swelled fat and green.
I saw the color drain away, leaving silver and brown as the seeds ripened and the birds found the sunflower’s final gift.
From life to life.
I saw and witnessed the meaningfulness and beauty of the sunflower’s life, which existed despite its “accidental” beginning.
Our Lord is the God who sees us . . . and cares for us, as He did for Hagar. Hagar was a slave who fled Sarai’s abuse and ran into the desert, pregnant and alone. Her life was not what she had planned, a life of disdain given and received, but
the Lord found Hagar near a spring in the desert; . . . he said, ‘Hagar, slave of Sarai, where have you come from, and where are you going?’ Genesis 16:7,8 NIV
The Lord knew who she was and addressed her by name. He instructed Hagar to return to Sarai and told her about the future of her son. Hagar, an unseen servant, caught up in unplanned circumstance, called God el Roi.
She gave this name to the Lord who spoke to her: ‘You are the God who sees me,” for she said, “I have now seen the One who sees me.’ Genesis 16:13 NIV
Perhaps your life has not gone as you planned, like Hagar, and difficult circumstances tangle your feet like briars on a path. God sees. God cares. He knows your future and has a purpose for you.
Great are your purposes and mighty are your deeds. Jeremiah 32:19 NIV
Perhaps you have known, perhaps you have been the child whose parents did not love you as they should have, did not protect you, didn’t provide for your needs, body and soul. Maybe you are hurting as much as the woman whose mother hurled the words “unwanted” and “accident” at her. God sees. God cares.
Even if my father and mother abandon me,
the Lord will hold me close. Psalm 27:10 NLT
Maybe you feel rejected by the one who said, “I do” and then didn’t. God sees. God cares.
Don’t be afraid. For you are very precious to God.
Peace! Be encouraged! Be strong!
Despite our bleak beginnings and pained past and fractured faith, God sees and has a purpose for us: to love and be loved, to do what only you can do and be in the place that only you can be.
God knows where we have come from and where we are going. He sees. We can grow from an accidental and unplanned beginning to a beautiful, joyous, and meaningful life.
From life to Life.
But I have raised you up for this very purpose, that I might show you my power and that my name might be proclaimed in all the earth. Exodus 9:16 NIV
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Photo of sprouting sunflower seed from the National Sunflower Association.
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The narrow, magenta ribbon of sunset faded over an hour ago, and the moon won’t rise for another hour. The neighbor’s security lights and the red blinks on radio station antennae and cell phone towers are the only lights visible from my house.
I slide on chore boots, zip up a jacket, and press the switch on the palm-size flashlight as I step into the blackness of the back yard. I walk down three steps and follow the familiar path across the lawn, between the apple and the fir trees, across the shop drive, around the diesel fuel barrel, and onto the gravel that leads to the edge of the field.
I retreat to a dark spot away from the house because I hope to see the Aurora Borealis. Although it’s rarely visible at my latitude, the chances are good tonight because of a solar storm two days ago. I click the flashlight off and scan the sky. As my eyes adjust to the darkness, I begin to pick out single stars, then constellations, and finally the Milky Way stretched overhead.
Despite the deep darkness of the night, regardless of the shadows moving toward me (our black cats had followed me), and even though I’m alone, I’m not afraid. I remember Psalm 8 and am comforted by God’s presence when I gaze at the “glory in the heavens.”
Although I wasn’t frightened of being alone in the dark, others in the same surroundings might be. Years ago a group of inner-city youth visited a neighboring farm. In the same inky night where I found comfort and closeness to God, those children were terrified. They were afraid of the open spaces, the black night devoid of street lights, and the startling appearance of previously unseen stars.
What petrifies you may not scare me. What unhinges me may not scare you, but even the bravest will have something that makes their heart beat fast or twists knots in their stomach. David wrote of faith and fear in the Psalms. Remember Indiana Jones’ terror in the pit of vipers? “Snakes. Why’d it have to be snakes?”
I know the kind of fear that grabs you by the throat and doesn’t want to let go. I recently watched my new-born grandson being prepped for an ambulance ride to a NICU. Seeing the wires and sensors, the supplemental oxygen, and the IV in his tiny, splinted arm increased my anxiety.
Guilt followed the fear and led to dark whispers of self-accusation and additional fears of inadequacy. How can you write about faith when you’re so afraid? How can you lead a prayer group when you can’t think of a word to pray?
I need to ignore those dark whispers and listen to the “still, small voice.” The verse I repeat to myself is
When I am afraid, I will trust in you. Psalm 56:3 NIV
Not “if” but “when.” I’m grateful that God knows all about our fears and has compassion on us. Many of the verses in the Bible that command us not to be afraid have this same formula. Fearful? Look to God. His presence will comfort you. He will help you.
For I am the Lord your God
who takes hold of your right hand
and says to you, Do not fear;
I will help you.
Isaiah 41:13 NIV
What frightens you? Is it a metaphorical snake pit or a real-life hospital room?
Are you afraid when the road ahead is risky?
Are you scared of being alone?
Are you frightened when death stalks your family or
when illness is eating the heart out of you?
Are you scared when you compare yourself to others and think that you don’t “measure up?”
If I’m honest, I’d have to raise my hand and say “yes, I’m afraid of all those things . . . and more.” My list of fears may not be as long as Mr. Monk’s (the fictional, phobic detective), but it’s there and includes public speaking and crowded elevators.
I’ll try to remember the next time fear threatens to overwhelm:
trust in Jesus,
listen to His voice,
hold His hand,
and try not to let fear push me around.
Bravery isn’t about being fearless. It’s about being less controlled by your fear.
What are you afraid of, and how do you deal with your fear?
- I write today about garden-variety fear. I do not intend to demean or diminish the crippling anxiety or phobias some may endure. Medical and psychological treatment may be necessary in the healing process.
- My grandson is home and doing well now
Milky Way photo forestwander.com
In the opening chapter of Charlotte’s Web, eight-year-old Fern saves the runty pig from death. She cries over him and tenderly feeds him from a bottle. She loves him.
By the time the bus reached school, Fern had named her pet, selecting the most beautiful name she could think of.
‘Its name is Wilbur,’ she whispered to herself.
The Lord your God is with you,
the Mighty Warrior who saves.
He will take great delight in you;
in his love he will no longer rebuke you,
but will rejoice over you with singing.Zephaniah 3:17 NIV
“The crops look good.” Farmers agree and nod to each other over coffee or after worship in the church foyer. The fields do look good.
We’ve had rain, blessed rain at critical times in crop development:
when the corn germinated,
as dark green, leafy fingers reached high,
when ears were pollinating,
and the kernels were forming,
and as the soybeans plumped fat in their pods.
The grain bins in our part of the Midwest will probably be full to overflowing this fall. The saying in agricultural circles is “Rain makes grain.”
The rain falling on our corn and soybean fields is part of the great water cycle on earth. Water evaporates from the oceans and is blown inland. Then the moisture condenses into clouds, falls as rain or snow, and tumbles downhill into streams and rivers and back to the sea.
As I walked around the yard and farmstead after a storm, while the grass and flowers were still studded with raindrop jewels and the sky painted with God’s palette, I remembered an old hymn, “Showers of Blessing.” Perhaps you still sing it during your worship service, but I hadn’t heard it for a while and could only remember the refrain:
Showers of blessing,
Showers of blessing we need:
Mercy-drops round us are falling,
But for the showers we plead.
When the Civil War broke out, I left my home in New England and came to Virginia as lieutenant of a company in a Massachusetts regiment. My dear mother was a devout Christian, and parted from me with many a tear, and followed me with many a prayer. She had placed a New Testament in a pocket of the haversack that she arranged for me.
. . . in one of the battles I was knocked out, and that night my arm was amputated above the elbow. As I grew better, having a desire for something to read, I felt in my haversack, . . . and found the little Testament my mother had placed there.
I read right through the book—Matthew, Mark, Luke, to Revelation. Every part was interesting to me; and I found to my surprise that I could understand it in a way that I never had before. . . . And so for days I continued reading, and with continued interest; and still with no thought of becoming a Christian, I saw clearly from what I read the way of salvation through Christ.
While in this state of mind, yet still with no purpose or plan to repent and accept the Saviour, I was awakened one midnight by the nurse, who said: ‘There is a boy in the other end of the ward, one of your men, who is dying. He has been begging me for the past hour to pray for him, or to get someone to pray for him, and I can’t stand it. I am a wicked man, and can’t pray, and I have come to get you.’
‘Why,’ said I, ‘I can’t pray. I never prayed in my life. I am just as wicked as you are.’ ‘Can’t pray!’ said the nurse; ‘why, I thought sure from seeing you read the Testament that you were a praying man. . . . I can’t go back there alone. Won’t you get up and come and see him at any rate?’
Moved by his appeal, I arose from my cot, and went with him to the far comer of the room. A fair-haired boy of seventeen or eighteen lay there dying. There was a look of intense agony upon his face, as he fastened his eyes upon me and said:
‘Oh, pray for me! Pray for me! I am dying. I was a good boy at home . . . But since I became a soldier I have learned to be wicked. . . . And now I am dying, and I am not fit to die! Oh, ask God to forgive me! Pray for me. Ask Christ to save me!’
As I stood there and heard these pleadings, God said to my soul by His Spirit, just as plainly as if He had spoken in audible tones, ‘You know the way of salvation. Get right down on your knees and accept Christ, and pray for this boy.’
I dropped upon my knees and held the boy’s hand in mine, as in a few broken words I confessed my sins, and asked God for Christ’s sake to forgive me. I believed right there that He did forgive me, and that I was Christ’s child; I then prayed earnestly for the boy. He became quiet, and pressed my hand as I pleaded the promises. When I arose from my knees he was dead. A look of peace was upon his face, and I can but believe that God, who used him to bring me to my Saviour, used me to get his attention fixed upon Christ and to lead him to trust in His precious blood. I hope to meet him in Heaven.
Many years have passed since that night in the Richmond Hospital, and I am still trusting and confessing the Lord Jesus Christ, and purpose by God’s grace to continue doing so until He calls me Home.
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Whether we have a bin-buster crop or lose it all, “the shower of blessing” that we desperately need is the rain of God’s love, the mercy drops of His grace. The tender kindness that began in the great ocean of His love lifts up over the dry earth of our lives and falls down, pure and refreshing on our hearts. There is more than enough rain for us, the rest slides off, and runs to the creek. We love others, and they extend God’s loving kindness to even more people. We are part of the “water cycle” of God’s love.
We love because he first loved us. 1 John 4:19 NIV
Liquid love flooded out of a mother’s breaking heart.
She placed a New Testament in her son’s bag and sent him off to fight in the Civil War, not knowing if she would ever see him again.
Love steamed off the furnace-hot events of war.
A young man’s arm was amputated, and he read the books: Matthew through Revelation.
Love pelted down hard and fast on unbelieving souls, and
two soldier hearts were softened and healed.
Love-washed lyrics poured out of a redeemed life,
words that echoed in church rafters.
Love-wrapped rain gently trickled down the years
and streamed into a grateful pool that is my heart,
which now overflows in a shower of blessing
from me to you.
There shall be showers of blessing:
This is the promise of love;
There shall be seasons refreshing,
Sent from the Savior above.
Showers of blessing,
Showers of blessing we need:
Mercy-drops round us are falling,
But for the showers we plead.
2 There shall be showers of blessing,
Precious reviving again;
Over the hills and the valleys,
Sound of abundance of rain. [Refrain]
3 There shall be showers of blessing;
Send them upon us, O Lord;
Grant to us now a refreshing,
Come, and now honor Thy Word. [Refrain]
4 There shall be showers of blessing:
Oh, that today they might fall,
Now as to God we’re confessing,
Now as on Jesus we call! [Refrain]
5 There shall be showers of blessing,
If we but trust and obey;
There shall be seasons refreshing,
If we let God have His way. [Refrain]
I will send down showers in season; there will be showers of blessing. Ezekiel 34:26
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Summer reruns on TV can be pretty boring, unless they’re showing the episode you missed last fall. (So that’s what Lady Violet meant by her most recent zinger.)
In case you didn’t see it the first time, here’s an updated version of a post from last October.
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This is a perfect sunflower.
Even if a few of the ray petals have been nibbled, the next one is still perfect.
And this ragged, windblown flower, eaten by root worm beetles?
The beautiful, golden ray petals are gone. The leaves have shriveled in hot, dry winds.
This sunflower head is frostbitten, not a trace of green leaf or sunny yellow left.
It is absolutely perfect!
Not your idea of perfection? It depends on what language you’re speaking. We English speakers most often think of this definition of the word “perfect:”
entirely without any flaws, defects, or shortcomings; correct in every detail
Some of us have carried over this idea of flawlessness to our Christian walk, thinking a character and life without defects was required of us. We have heard bits of verses taken out of the whole of Scripture, and they made living the Christian life seem like a Herculean task.
For every honest heart knows they are bug-eaten, wind-blown, and drought-stunted. There are days the hard freezes of life stop us in our tracks, and we feel like dried-out husks without a tinge of green life left in us. We make the choices and say the words and think the thoughts that take us a universe away from perfection.
There is good news, friends! We need to reclaim the older meanings of the word-perfect.” The old Latin word from which our English comes is
“perfectus:” to finish, bring to completion.
We are not responsible for or even capable of finishing or completing the story that is our life. God is. Like the sunflower, we just turn to face the sun and grow.
And I am sure that God who began the good work within you will keep right on helping you grow in his grace until his task within you is finally finished on that day when Jesus Christ returns. Philippians 1:6 TLB
being confident of this, that he who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus. Philippians 1:6 NIV
In the Greek of the New Testament the word for “perfect” is teleios which means
a thing meeting its intended, end purpose.
What is the designed, end purpose of the sunflower? In general, all of creation testifies to God’s glory and His character.
Ever since the creation of the world his invisible nature, namely, his eternal power and deity, has been clearly perceived in the things that have been made. Romans 1:20 RSV
However, what can the sunflower do that nothing else can? It produces sunflower seeds–enough seeds to ensure reproduction and to feed birds and other animals.
We live in a broken world , but the good news is “the Good News.” Jesus provided a way for us to be forgiven, and now we can live out our intended end purpose. Jesus taught that the first and second greatest commandments were to love God and love our neighbor as our self.
We can love and glorify God. We can love our neighbors by sharing the gospel seeds with a world that is spiritually (and literally) hungry. Be a perfect sunflower–face the warm sun and “go to seed.”
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Sunflower photo 1 and 2 by Barb Briggs
Sunflower with goldfinch photo by Audreyjm529
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