Here are the latest inspiring words–and a poem from Robert Frost–from our frequent guest columnist John Paul Carter, an ordained minister who writes his “Notes From the Journey” column for the Weatherford Democrat. Thanks, as always, John Paul!
Last Wednesday afternoon I ate a late lunch of beans and rice on our back porch. It felt unseasonably warm – almost like summer. Only a steady breeze made it bearable and I wondered if spring was about to make an early exit.
I love spring because when the trees and shrubs leaf out, our backyard recovers its privacy. The neighbors’ houses fade from view and it takes on the ambiance of a lush, green wilderness. It’s a great place to relax and reconnect.
On this sunny afternoon, the squirrels were stretched out on limbs, napping – exhausted from their morning frolics. A bright red cardinal and his mate were perched in a tree near the creek, saving their songs for twilight.
But it was four Red Admiral butterflies who stole the show – silently flying, floating, and flitting from plant to plant. The delicate beauty of their jet black wings, ringed with brilliant orange, and tipped with snow-white spots was breathtaking. What a wonderful reminder of new life all around me!
Wednesday was the first occasion this spring that I’ve made time to sit on the porch and become a part of my surroundings. Lately when I’m outside, it seems like I’m always working to finish some task – feeding the birds, raking leaves, mowing the lawn, or planting the garden. To make matters worse, because I keep remembering last year’s extreme drought and heat, I tend to be pre-occupied with what the approaching summer might bring.
However, my few minutes on the back porch on Wednesday with the squirrels, the birds, the butterflies, and the trees has reminded me that I’m missing a blessing that I desperately need – spring and all its delights.
So, trusting our Heavenly Father for summer’s needs, I’m returning to the back porch, praying with my favorite poet Robert Frost:
Oh, give us pleasure in the flowers today;
And give us not to think so far away
As the uncertain harvest; keep us here
All simply in the springing of the year.
You’re welcome to join me!