Home Among the Weeds: Speaking to the Soul May 25, 2023

At our former home

my beloved disliked
our Rose of Sharon trees—
he likened them to weeds.

Yet I am convinced
that it is always the “weeds”
that provide the most refuge
without asking anything in return.

In five minutes,
I watched six hummingbirds
zoom around the blossoms
as they jockeyed for a chance
at each unfurling blossom.

I watched cardinals
and Carolina wrens fight
over the ripening grape clusters
from the vine
that is supported by not one but two trees
along our fence.

I watched butterflies—
humble little skippers,
but also hairstreaks, fritillaries,
swallowtails,
and oh my God, even a monarch,
once so ubiquitous
but now almost as surprising to see
as a Bengal tiger.

Even on my deck I could hear
the thrum of probably thirty bumble bees
hovering like tugboats from blossom to bloom,
staying aloft
only God knows how.

We owe our lives
to the “weeds” of this world,
to their humble welcome
and hospitality,
anchoring the chain of life.

Is that not beautiful?

--This was first published at Episcopal Journal and Cafe's Speaking to the Soul on May 25, 2023.

Prayer 2739: In Gratitude for the Earth

O Creating, Sustaining God,
your mercy gently drops upon us like a cooling rain,
and your grace spreads before us in beauty,
like the flower-dappled resplendence of a summer field.
We lay our hearts before You,
and give you thanks and praise.

Awaken us to a deeper devotion to You,
an abiding commitment
o the care and love of each other
in your Name and for your glory.
Teach us to walk gently and mindfully upon this Earth
which You have placed as a foundation
for all we do,
to delight in wonder at its beauty,
and to protect it as your handiwork and gift.

May our voices join with the sparrow and thrush
to sing out our joy in your goodness and love,
in the harmony and mutuality
You have woven into the fabric of creation,
in the warp and weft of the web of life that supports us.

For the sake of our Savior and Redeemer,
accept these prayers and prayers,
O God Most High,
and pour out the oil of blessing
upon all those for whom we pray.


Amen.

Weeds

The Hubster dislikes
our Rose of Sharon trees—
he likens them to weeds.

Yet I am convinced
that it is always the “weeds”
who provide the most refuge
without asking anything in return.

In five minutes,
I watched six hummingbirds
zoom around the blossoms
as they jockeyed for a chance
at the waning late-summer blooms.

I watched cardinals
and Carolina wrens fight
over the ripening grape clusters
from the vine
that is supported by not one but two trees
along our fence—
trees that also give us privacy in our yard.

I watched butterflies—
humble little skippers,
but also hairstreaks, fritillaries,
swallowtails,
and oh my God, even a monarch,
once so ubiquitous
but now almost as surprising to see
as a Bengal tiger. 

Even on my deck I could hear
the thrum of probably thirty bumble bees
hovering like tugboats from blossom to bloom,
staying aloft
only God knows how.

We owe our lives
to the “weeds” of this world,
to their humble welcome
and hospitality.

The least we can do is call them beautiful.




Photo taken this morning of a bumblebee on a Rose of Sharon and then using the Angel filter on Prisma.

Prayer 2360

In humility and awe,
we come before our God,
who welcomes us and fills us with blessing,
who calls us to courage and hope.
Lord Jesus, lead us into wisdom and compassion,
renouncing the foolishness and hatred that divides us.
Make us beacons of peace and justice,
renouncing the hopelessness, fear and vengeance
that causes us to hurt each other.
Help us follow in your footsteps
of mercy and healing,
proclaiming the peace of God
and love of Christ in every moment.
Give us faith in your creation
and your image in each other,
remembering that you formed us in love 
to be Spirit-filled people.
Gather us to your embrace, O Holy One,
and extend the shade of your blessing
to those we now name.

Amen.