Hope Blossoms

Therefore, having been justified by faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ, through whom also we have access by faith into this grace in which we stand, and rejoice in hope of the glory of God.   And not only that, but we also glory in tribulations, knowing that tribulation produces perseverance; and perseverance, character; and character, hope.  Now hope does not disappoint, because the love of God has been poured out in our hearts by the Holy Spirit who was given to us.

—Romans 5:1-5 

I glanced over as I always do when I pass by—at the driveway lined with gorgeous cherry trees. This time I did a double take. What was that? What did that sign say? It looked like “Free Cherry Trees.” 

But I couldn’t go back. I would be late. I’ll check the next time I drive by. 

As I approached the home later in the week, I lifted my foot from the accelerator and zoomed in. Surely that’s what it said. “Free Cherry Trees.” 

How could I pass up an offer like that? I remembered the breath-taking beauty of the trees in bloom. 

I want them! I’ll take them!  

Dust Free, Debt Free

If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just and will forgive us our sins and purify us from all unrighteousness.—1 John 1:9

Really?  I just dusted two days ago!  And there it was—sunbeams penetrating the blinds bringing it to light—a trail of dust once again making its home on my picture table.

I abhor dusting—all that moving items to dust beneath and then dusting the items themselves.  I guess that’s why it’s always at the bottom of my list.  But I knew I couldn’t put it off any longer and set out to conquer the thick coating on my furniture. What a chore it was dusting all those picture frames.  And now to have the dust return in two short days makes my work seem in vain. 

Idioms, Peculiarities, and Personal Satisfaction

Let everyone be sure to do his very best, for then he will have the personal satisfaction of work done well and won’t need to compare himself with someone else.—Galatians 6:4

Okay, I admit it.  That bugs me.  There, I’ve said it.  What I’m talking about are those random spires of sorghum that rise far above the rest of the field.  I can’t help but notice them as I drive past—a peculiar sight that sticks out like a sore thumb. I imagine myself furiously slicing the stalks to line up with their neighbors.  But why?  Why do the overachieving shoots of grain bother me so much?  Is it because I prefer tidiness and clean lines—even, straight lines?  It’s true that a well-groomed lawn without a blade out of place is like a breath of fresh air to me.  And evenly aligned desks in my classroom make my heart sing. But could my annoyance over the perceived anomaly in the sorghum field stem from something much deeper?

Lately I’ve been feeling like I’m behind the curve at work.  A few of my colleagues are flaunting cool technology in their classrooms, while I’m still trying to install the software—let alone use it.  They’re head and shoulders above the rest of us.  That bugs me.  But why?  Can I not celebrate their success without getting my nose out of joint?  Do I have to keep up with the Joneses?  Why do I want to be like them?  Is it fear that they will get noticed by the principal and I will not?  “For am I now seeking the approval of man, or of God? Or am I trying to please man?”—Galatians 1:10