Saturday, April 11, 2009

At the End of the Day

I did not spend my day cloistered in solitude and prayer. I feel somewhat guilty about that because the saints of old found great satisfaction in periods of silence, and it seems a Day of Prayer and Fasting should be spent that way. I have those times in my life, but not today. I guess you could say we celebrated the resurrection of life a day early by giving new life and color to our flowerbeds and backyard.

After my morning run, I came home to load six 16" pots that would hold plants in them--plants full of variety and color--into the Element. (Got to love the plastic floors and room in the Element for jobs like this.) Kevin and Shannon Stone met us at the house about 10:00. They were the ones who had told us of the flowering treasures and how we could fill our beds and pots with explosions of color and life.

We followed them in our car like kids following friends to a new ice cream store down Central Expressway to the Dallas Farmer's Market. We ended up at Ruibal's Plants of Texas where we picked out our plants (thank you, Carlos) and left the pots for them to arrange and deliver them when they had finished. (That's my kind of full-service nursery!)

Of course, we had to buy plants for our beds, too, and we purchased and loaded up flats of begonias, sweet potato vines, caladiums, a geranium potted plant, and a bougainvillea hanging plant. After a stop at Home Depot for another pot and potting soil and another stop at Callaway's for "Rabbit Scram," we came home to plant our new found treasures.

I am usually the one who plants the spring flowers, but this year Kim got fired up about planting and joined me on my hands and knees to arrange and plant the caladiums and begonias. I love the smell of fresh earth and enjoy seeing the beds after planting, but this year with Kim I found the spring ritual more enjoyable and meaningful. In a posture of prayer we planted, laughed, and trusted life would rise from the empty dirt through the color-filled plants.

Upon reflection, on the day we remember Jesus' death, the four of us boldly planted life in colorless, life-less plots of soil. We planted life where there was death just a few months ago, and our friendships deepened, and Kim and I were drawn closer together on the day Jesus' friends abandoned him. When we were finished both color and life waved in the breeze like those who raised palm branches at the beginning of Holy Week.

I'm glad we spent the day acting out our trust that life springs up in Jesus, the Creator and Rescuer. His death, though cruel and unjust, results in life that springs forth each year as a promise of his eternal life and the promise he will return to give our dying lives life with his.

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