The Painter of Sunflowers: Making sense of motifs

Notice how the flowers grow. They do not toil or spin. But I tell you, not even Solomon in all his splendor was dressed like one of them.

—Luke 12:27 NABRE

I printed the car ride scavenger hunt form and brought it along to pick up my seven-year-old granddaughter, Addison, who was going to spend the day with me. Our first stop would be the movie theater to see Peter Rabbit. Although the theater is not far away, I knew Addison would enjoy the scavenger hunt, even for the short ride. It’s something we do regularly. True to form, Addison got started on the scavenger hunt right away and checked off most of the items by the time we arrived at the theater.

While Peter Rabbit received no more than three stars by most movie critics (and I can agree with some of their arguments), I found it to be delightful for the following reasons. I thought the mixed media of live action with animation was brilliant and beautiful. I was awed at the splendor of the English countryside, its cottages and abundant gardens, profuse in colorful vegetables and bright sunflowers, and of course the adorable bunnies featured throughout. Immediately I was caught up in the plot, recognizing the familiar tale by Beatrix Potter and enjoying the twist that involved a manipulative heir to the McGregor estate falling in love with his next door neighbor, Bea (short for Beatrix?), an artist who paints pictures of rabbits and nature and is a mother-like figure to Peter and his triplet sisters and cousin. Although not true in real life, Bea says that rabbits touch foreheads to apologize. This becomes a motif throughout the movie and lends itself to a heartwarming happy ending.

Photo credit: The New York Times

When we left the theater, I was still basking in the beauty of the movie’s scenery, even more so when the weather of the day seemed to complement it. Addison and I then decided to enjoy a fast-food picnic at the waterfront, followed by a walk skirting the shoreline. Still not ready to cap off the afternoon, we elected to take on the challenge of a sunflower maze at a nearby farm.

Outdoor Worship Service

Give thanks to the Lord, for he is good,

for his steadfast love endures forever.

—Psalm 136:1

In case you haven’t heard, a worship service is being held outdoors this morning.

That’s right. All churches in our area have cancelled “indoor” morning services due to the aftermath of Winter Storm Jonas. But a worship service is being held right outside your home.

Queen Anne

I knock.  No answer.

I knock again. No answer.

Please let me in!

Still no answer.

I turn the knob.  It’s locked.

I bang the door with my fist.

I push.  I lean.

I press into it with my shoulder—hard! 

Finally it flies open!

And I fall

headlong into a sun-splashed foyer,

your strong arms wrapping me in

an embrace, welcoming and soothing

as warm silky bath water.

Somehow I know this is where

I belong, this is where

it all began.

My heart swells, my throat constricts,

I don’t know whether to yell or cry. 

All I know is this is what I’ve been waiting for,

my flesh craving,

my soul longing.

You link my arm and lead me down your hall

lined with long-stemmed Queen Anne’s lace,

while tiny ballerinas in tissue-paper tutus twirl

and flutter about me like attendants to

Queen Anne herself.

Your cushiony carpet squishes between

my tired toes, as you

gently guide me to an open door—

my chamber you’ve adorned with

aromatic red roses, vibrant zinnias, flaming lilies—

a myriad of colors, making my eyes

dart from side to side.

I scarce can take it in!

Red, white, blue—

your glory flag waves from the corner.

I nod back—

it flaps again,

directing my attention.

There it is!

Inviting me to sit and sway

to your music medley,

a familiar orchestra, familiar tunes,

kindred voices,

melodic highs, deep-throated lows.

My soul sings along

and the rocker lulls my spirit like

a mother’s lullaby to her restless infant.

Your breath cools my cheeks and

plays with my hair, swooping it from my face.

You refresh me with your bountiful basket of

harvest—mouth-watering melons,

chin-dripping peaches, and plump blackberries

that explode on my tongue!

Come, you beckon,

pulling me to my feet.

And we parade, arm-in-arm,

breathing in

sweet-smelling hay and

unmistakable honeysuckle—

an ambrosial blend from

your atomizer.

You lead me to the pond,

still and serene, surrounded

by lush green growth and

a single blue heron, standing sentinel.

Suddenly, a turtle pops up his head!

Concentric waves surround, and

I peer down.

There it is!

My face,

peace washing over it,

and there you are,

waves blurring

the lines between you and me,

and I cannot tell where I end

and you begin,

for you are a part of me,

and you always have been,

my dearest, closest, truest friend,

June.

A tribute to my Creator—our Creator—the maker of all things, including the month of June with all its glory and bounty—and me, Desiree Anne St. Clair Glass, who He brought forth on Flag Day, June 14^th many years ago.

Thank You Father for Your countless gifts, including the gift of rest, as is promised in Your Word, for that is most welcome by this teacher now in the month of June. Amen. 

Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.

—Matthew 11:28

Endowed by their Creator

"See, I have engraved you on the palms of my hands"--Isaiah 49:16

On this day that we celebrate our country’s independence, we may reflect on these words: “We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, and are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable rights, that among these are Life, Liberty, and the pursuit of Happiness.”

Just two days ago I visited a government building in Delaware and noticed the meditation benches surrounding a sculpture dedicated to the evolution of our legal system.  Words of the Declaration of Independence are engraved on each bench.  I posed for a picture on a bench inscribed with this segment:  Endowed by their creator with.

Fill in the blank. Besides rights, what else have we been endowed with? Let us meditate on the fact that we have been endowed by our Creator with certain gifts that are to be used to fulfill His will in our lives, to bring Him glory.  What is your gift? Is it the gift of music, art, writing?  The gift of encouragement, hospitality, speaking, administration? The Master sculpted all of us perfectly for His purpose. Let us use our gifts.  Pursue His will.  Until we do, we will not truly experience Life, Liberty, or Happiness.  Let us give back to the one who gave His all for us.  The proof of which is engraved in the palms of His hands.