Technically, white is the absence of color. Symbolically, white represents an ethereal purity, innocence, simplicity, clarity, cleanliness, goodness, hope, perfection, rebirth.
White inspires emotional peace, restoration, and healing. Bride’s dress in it, and its brilliance adorns Christ’s robes.
The white of snow’s fading grip blanketing Appalachian heights graced my wife on our recent 2,263 miles – 8 state -10 day road trip north . . . evoking nostalgic journeys down memory lane.
Returning south, we witnessed Spring’s white rebirth. True to the adage, “A picture is worth a thousand words”, I’ll cease my ramblings (you’re welcome 😊) and send off couple pics of Spring’s vibrant resurrection of life revealed to this ole ragamuffin today.
Officially, the first day of Spring is a month away. Evidently, this daffodil didn’t get the memo😊. Heralding life, it validated the ‘silent loveliness’ of our garden stone’s inscription:
How Lovely is the Silence of Growing Things
I’ve been truly blessed for most of my life to reside in the relative calming silence of ‘Rularia’, compared to the chaotic cacophony of ‘Urbania’ environs. Childhood summers were spent roaming the Pocono Mountains’ forests in Promised Land, PA, so aptly named. There, ‘silently serenaded’ by nature, I learned to rest in my Abba’s arms, quietly listening to His serene, still small voices and gentle whispers sung by Creation. In adulthood (still working on that 😊), my career adventures most always found me residing on the outskirts of civilization where, just outside my door, the unending melodies Creation’s chorus could silently comfort my soul.
‘Listening’ this morning to the daffodil’s vibrant first bloom shout . . . Spring’s Here!!! . . . reminded me of how effortless it is to be caught up in the ‘noisy busyness’ of today’s world which drowns out His still small voice and soothing gentle whispers. Throw in some smidgens pride, ego, power, covetousness, and a few other “pleasures of sin for a season”, and our ‘deafness’ hastens.
Not everyone has my luxury of living in the relative solitude the outskirts of civilization affords . . . Go Alaska!!!😊. However, whether we reside in ‘Urbania’ or ‘Rularia’, we’re all equally blessed with 24/7/365 in which to carve out some crucial one-on-One ‘silent listening’ time . . . time alone to converse and ‘listen’ to the One Who always listens to our every request, plea, and heartfelt cry.
In that venue, Michael Yaconelli in his book Dangerous Wonder shares the story of a spiritually struggling teenage girl who took time to ‘listen’ to her Creator’s still small voice and soothing gentle whispers.
During a one-day church retreat participants were asked to write what they thought Jesus would write to them in a letter. A 17-year-old girl volunteered to read hers first. She began by apologizing that she’d “messed up”. Instead of writing what Jesus would say to her in a letter, she’d written a deeply personal, ‘open-heart’ dialogue between her and Jesus. Here’s the still small voice, gently whispered one-on-One ‘silent conversation she humbly, and boldly shared:
“I feel awkward because it’s been so long since I’ve been near you.”
“I’ve missed you too; I think about you every day.”
“But I’ve messed up; I’ve done a lot of things I regret.”
“It’s okay child. I forgive you.”
“I don’t understand. I turn away, I ignore You.”
“I’m still here right beside you.”
“I try to live without you even though I know deep inside that You’re still a part of me.”
“You don’t have to make yourself loveable; I love you how you are.”
“Even after everything I’ve done, and everything that’s happened, would it offend You if I called You bizarre?”
“I am bizarre; more so than you’ll ever know.”
“This may sound strange, but could I please ask You to hold me, for a little while?
“My child, I’ve been waiting for you with outstretched arms.”
May each of us, like this teenage girl, find time each to escape this world’s ‘noise’ . . . snuggle in His arms . . . and ‘listen’ in ‘assuring silence’ to His still small voice and comforting gentle whispers.
PS – When we do so, I wonder if God is smiling and says . . . How Lovely is the Silence of Growing Saints . . . even this ole ragweed 😊
Welcome Back Flowers is the sequel to Farewell Flowers posted prior to leaving the Smoky Mountains forests for the Alaskan wilderness last month. Snow-birding between these two awesome corners of creation provides ‘seasonal jet-lag’ . . . as Spring morphs into Summer in the Smokies, it’s just beginning to emerge from Winter’s grip in the Last Frontier. Consequently, I’m blessed to experience Spring’s splendor twice each year . . . God is good!
Here’s a few welcome bouquet blooms Mother Nature treated me with hiking Castle Mountain’s boonies today.
A picture is worth a thousand words . . . God’s surpass all words.
“Consider the lilies, how they grow: they neither toil or spin; and yet I say to you’ even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed as one of these”. – Luke 12:27
On the western side of the Great Smoky Mountains lies Ashville, NC, an eclectic small town and home to the Biltmore Estate.
America’s largest private home, George Washington Vanderbilt II had it built during 1880s. A quaint, châteauesque style, 135,280sq. ft., 250-room edifice, it’s tucked away on 8,000 acres. George affectionately referred to it as his “little mountain escape” 😊.
Wandering among their meticulously manicured gardens is a sure-fire, spirit boosting, creation wonder walk!
“Consider the lilies how they grow: they toil not, they spin not; and yet I say unto you, that Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these”. – Luke 12:27
+ ^ Keep Looking Up . . . His best is yet to come!
Abba's Art 