“Don’t you think daisies are the friendliest flower?”

Today I did something a little out of the ordinary for a Friday morning — I went to Stone Mountain and took a leisurely hike up the mountain trail.

Leisurely is code for I had to stop a couple of times because it was pretty steep at the end and I kinda appreciate staying alive.

Anyway, thoroughly delightful. I wandered around and took pictures while catching my breath and continuing up up up.

As far as hikes go, it’s pretty short … about a mile. But the terrain is uneven, and rocky, and there are places where it’s sandy and slippery, and others where water is running down, so for a middle-aged out of shape broad, that mile was a hike. Of course, it’s a lot faster coming down.

The morning was fairly cool and there was quite a breeze blowing, especially at the top.  In fact, I couldn’t have asked for a lovelier day for my little excursion. It gave me a lot of time to think, when I was inclined to think, but mostly, I let my mind go blank and just be. Kind of nice not to think about anything at all.

Of course, that just usually leads to more thinking, and I noticed a couple of things.  I went with the intent of photographing the Stone Mountain Daisies, which are still blooming even though it’s a little late already. As it happens, there were plenty, overgrown, even, but my favorites are the ones that just kind of sprout out of nowhere.

As I would crouch down to get close for a couple of the shots, I realized that they were facing the morning sun, straining, almost yearning for the light. I looked carefully at the next batch, and sure enough, they were facing the sun. It’s hard not to see the obvious there, right? We can learn much from the natural world, and those pretty little daisies, simple, sweet, and so cheerful and carefree (indulge my personification) taught me a lovely little lesson.

“Learn from the way the wild flowers grow.  They do not work or spin.  But I tell you that not even Solomon in all his splendor was clothed like one of them.”(Matthew 6:28-29)

The pretty little daisies were showing me the way — to look up, brightly, into the Son.

snapshots of my day…

* enjoyed my morning cup of coffee instead of the usual guzzling

* an amusing distraction courtesy of Silly Songs with Larry and a curious craving for cucumber salad

* a faithful prayer of thanksgiving for my dear dear friend and his battle with cancer … and a prayer for physical relief and creative focus for another

* the pretty lavender and eggplant lining in my black suit jacket makes me feel feminine on the inside and corporate on the outside — I like my secrets

* the fact that women reading this understand “eggplant”

* it’s cool enough for a sweater — mine is teal

* God’s house is big — where a door closes there’s usually another door open — I don’t need to go crawling through windows

* the oak outside my office window is still green and looks majestic against the bright blue sky

* in the continuing game of finding random Cubans everywhere, met a new student recently arrived from Havana

* a shot and a beer, albeit virtual, hit the spot when I found it around happy hour

* got home to a special delivery pizza, a glass (or two) of wine, and a quiet conversation on the porch. aaah.

Blessed John Newman

The Mission of My Life

God has created me to do Him some definite service. He has committed some work to me which He has not committed to another. I have my mission. I may never know it in this life, but I shall be told it in the next. I am a link in a chain, a bond of connection between persons. He has not created me for naught. I shall do good; I shall do His work. I shall be an angel of peace, a preacher of truth in my own place, while not intending it if I do but keep His commandments. Therefore, I will trust Him, whatever I am, I can never be thrown away. If I am in sickness, my sickness may serve Him, in perplexity, my perplexity may serve Him. If I am in sorrow, my sorrow may serve Him. He does nothing in vain. He knows what He is about. He may take away my friends. He may throw me among strangers. He may make me feel desolate, make my spirits sink, hide my future from me. Still, He knows what He is about.

John Henry Newman

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