ENOUGH

I can't recall when this beleagured bird bath became a part of our yard. Perhaps it was a freebie somewhere because it already had a notch missing from its hard-plastic basin. But there's still enough of a “bowl” to hold bread crumbs, and when I get to the hard heel of a loaf, I usually break it in there. Within minutes, birds—typically sparrows—are feasting and spreading the word. It's almost amusing to watch the landings and departures escalate and then fade as the supply is picked clean.

Jesus noticed that, too, bringing a lesson recorded in Matthew 6 (The “Sermon on the Mount”):

Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they?

Although I've lived through lean times, when there wasn't much food on hand, I have never gone hungry. And in this season of “aging” and now being alone, I feel a kinship with the birds that swoop down for a few bread crumbs. It's not just about what's in my cupboards and refrigerator (I have plenty--and that includes the cookie jar with granola bars for growing grandboys), or what I pump into my car's gas tank. Or the wires going into my house for electricity, phone and internet, or the pipes that bring water and remove our sewage. I've always lived more simply, but do pause at times and thank the Lord for these conveniences.

More than that, I want more than enough of His love and assurance, of which He has an infinite supply. Paul reminded those who came to Christ through his ministry to make sure they were “givers” as well as “takers.” As someone living on “love offerings,” he never was sure of where his next meal would come from, or what Mediterranean culture where he preached would influence the menu!

I love how the book of Philippians ends with thanksgiving. Paul talks about contentment and generosity. Plus, how he learned that “our God will meet all your needs according to His glorious riches in Christ Jesus” (Philippians 4:19). Not the wants (not a perpetually-full bird feeder) but the needs. There's a huge difference—a divine difference—between those extremes.

BLUE GOLD

It started—honestly--with an old-fashioned folding wooden clothes drying rack. My husband, who likes to fix/resell, found it somewhere, cleaned it up, and had me put it in the online want ads. There it sat for weeks until we got a call from folks about four hours' drive away. Could we hold it for their anticipated trip to our town? Sure.

Okay, here's the backstory that involves blueberries. Some of the sweetest memories of my childhood are the blueberries that came off about six bushes in our home's back yard. Our valley was infamous for hungry robins, so after a few years of unwillingly feeding the wildlife, my dad enclosed the blueberry patch in a “cage” he built of chicken wire. Oh how the flying critters fussed. But we got our blueberries, and, frozen, they treated us all year.

Fast-forward several decades to marriage, and knowing my love of blueberries, my husband planted several bushes in our back yard. Instead of the chicken wire cage, I just draped them with netting to ward of bird pecks when the berries started to form. Typically I got two big mixing bowlfuls a year off them. Popped in the freezer, they provided enough toppings for my breakfast cereal for the year. At other times, my husband knew that just buying a carton of fresh blueberries at the store meant more to me than a mink coat or high-brow perfume (neither of which I have owned or desired).

This year, something happened. I barely got a handful of berries. Major crop failure.

Cherry season came and my husband was invited to glean at an orchard. Oh, he went at it. He gave away bags and bags to friends, most of them older folks who appreciated the sweat equity behind such a gift. But his list was shorter than the supply, and we had a plastic dishwashing tub in the refrigerator left.

Enter the customers for the wooden clothes drying rack. Two women came as promised, fresh off hours of either purchasing or gleaning some of the produce of our valley. Right away, by their dress and hair style, I identified them as folks of the religious persuasion that advocated the “simple life.” One bought the clothes rack without quibbling on the price and then asked, “Do you like blueberries?”

She may have well asked, “Do you like fresh air? Giggling babies? Air-dried laundry? Words of appreciation? The hope of eternal life?” We didn't go through that list but she told me to get a container and she'd share some they had picked. I grabbed a small mixing bowl, thinking that was greedy. My husband hollered from the garage, “Give them that tub of cherries in our refrigerator.” Oh, her eyes lit up at the mention of cherries, whose harvest had just ended. I wanted to keep my plastic dishwashing tub, so found a cardboard box they could take and started dumping the cherries. As soon as I emptied my plastic tub, she brought out her huge box of blueberries and--to my astonishment--dumped them into the same tub! It was a summer's harvest for me—and more.

And then they left for their long trip home to presumably can and freeze their bounty for the year. I rinsed and bagged their berry gift, and tucked the blue bounty into our freezer. And I--blessed unexpectedly--cried.

“Delight yourself in the Lord, and He will give you the desires of your heart.” (Psalm 37:3)

“Celebrate [God's] abundant goodness.” (Psalm 145:7)

And finally, as we obey God in our finances and generosity, He says, “I will pour out so much blessing that you will not have room enough for it.” (Malachi 3:12)

Blue gold. What a blessing.

Lingering

I'm especially fond of a saying engraved on a resting bench at the University of Idaho (Moscow) arboretum:

The fragrance always remains in the hand that gives the rose.

When I “googled” it to find its author, I found décor sites offering plaques and other items with the quote. But I couldn’t find a definitive word of its author other than a quick reference to a mystic in an Eastern religion.

I still like it, because it says in metaphor what the Bible says in plain words: that when you reach out to people in encouragement and help, you bless them as well as yourself. Some of the verses that express that truth:

A generous man will proper; he who refreshes others will himself be refreshed. (Proverbs 11:25)

One man gives freely, yet gains even more; another withholds unduly, but comes to poverty. (Proverbs 11:24)

It is more blessed to give than to receive. (Acts 20:35, Paul, quoting Jesus)

If you had “all day,” I could tell you many stories of people who have given me the “rose” of encouragement and help.  Some that come to the top right now are associated with the tough mouths of recovery after I broke my ankle when I fell down some icy stairs. The timing was awful: my mother-in-law was in the early stages of Alzheimer’s disease. We were taking her meals, helping with housework, supervising laundry, and of course had taken away her car keys.  She needed me just to function.

Then PLOP. My life reduced to days of pain and disability in the recliner. Meals came in.  Someone brought ice packs I could refreeze. Another picked up stamps and mailed packages for me. My closest friend determined to “be there” (for safety) the mornings I maneuvered onto a shower bench to bathe and wash my hair. When I went from a hard cast to a take-off cast, she knelt before me, helped shave my healing leg and trim my toenails. It was such a humble, touching time. I cried. In a few years I would be doing similar things for my mother-in-law as she lost control of bodily functions and could no longer feed herself. But the “fragrance remained” as I recalled how caring friends helped me in my “temporary disability.”

This saying is not about handing somebody a bouquet purchased at the local grocery store (though I’ve done that, too). It’s about giving something you cannot be repaid for. It’s about being the hands and feet of Christ in whatever tasks He puts before us. The “fragrance remains” because it is His.