Faith - Tarry There

Surprised by Purple

Posted on September 29, 202212 Comments

In browsing my photo library recently, I discovered I have taken a lot of photos of purple flowers this year. I was surprised because the majority of them were taken in our garden, and I didn’t realize we had so many purple blossoms! The color is sometimes difficult to photograph—it’s almost like the camera doesn’t know quite what to do with purple. Sometimes it looks pinker than the flower I see with my own eyes. Sometimes it frames up bluer. Occasionally it’s more of a reddish purple. Nevertheless, I’m really pleased with my discovery, and my surprise in their beauty is what initially set me on this pathway to share.

As I sorted through the photos, I discovered something else. Gazing at purple for that length of time gave me a tranquil, dreamy feeling. It was just a hint of something mysterious or otherworldly. Along with it, I sensed a slight shift somewhere inside. I’m going to call it a quiet openness. This was another surprise. I wonder if as you browse this post…will purple have the same impact on you? Often purple is used as an accent in the garden—a little here and a little there—so this gallery might also be your first opportunity to observe something similar.

These surprises I felt evolved into feelings of wonder and awe.

Wonder and awe—we often use these terms in much the same way. They both spring from looking at a phenomenon and responding with amazement and worshipful adoration over something so remarkable we cannot fathom what we’re seeing. In spite of this commonality, there are some differences between wonder and awe which are best clarified in how they energize us.

Wonder manifests like a raised hand. It inspires me to ask and prompts me to explore and learn more.

In contrast, awe behaves like a lamp. It inspires me to step back and gaze and kindles a yearning to show off what I’ve discovered.

Prompted by wonder I researched all sorts of things about the color purple, from its history and symbolism to how it best enhances a garden. My most impactful discovery was the mention of purple in Scripture. It is most often mentioned in the book of Exodus, in reference to the colors in the tabernacle—the curtains, the veil, and the priests’ garments. The tabernacle was constructed using specific instructions given to Moses by God with a command to follow the pattern He gave (Exodus 25:9). The pattern is a copy of heavenly things (Hebrews 8:5) and it was eloquent with rich symbolism.

The instructions involving purple were given and carried out most often as a triad of colors—blue, purple, and scarlet, and always in that particular order. For example, Exodus 26:36 says, “For the entrance to the tent make a curtain of blue, purple, and scarlet yarn and finely twisted linen—the work of an embroiderer.”

Symbolically, blue represented heaven, because as people looked at the skies they were reminded of God’s glory and divinity, His overarching presence. It pointed to Christ’s origin. Purple was a symbol of royalty, wealth, or position, because of the very costly means of processing purple dye, which only kings or the very wealthy could access. Red was a symbol of earth because of the ruddy color of man. It was also a symbol of sacrifice.

The tabernacle points us to the reality of Christ who came to us on earth from heaven and made the ultimate sacrifice (Romans 5:8; 1 Peter 3:18). He obeyed for us, died for us (Philippians 2:8-11; Hebrews 2:10), and was raised for us (Romans 4:25). In this, God has given Him all authority (Ephesians 1:20-21; Matthew 28:18). Purple in the middle, as it always is between blue and red, illustrates how Christ Jesus stands between us and our Heavenly Father. Because of Jesus’ sacrifice, He is the way, the only way we can approach God—we have no other means (John 14:6; Hebrews 5:9).

Jesus’ position reveals another heavenly reality, which feels very personal but is true for all who believe. As the Father looks at me, because of how Jesus obeyed perfectly for me, He sees in me the perfect righteousness of Christ (2 Corinthians 5:21; Romans 3:23-25). I can approach the Father because of Christ (Hebrews 4:14-16) and the Father welcomes me because of Christ (Luke 15:7; John 6:40, 17:24). All the benefits of faith are available through Christ (John 1:12), and He lives to intercede for me before the Father (Hebrews 7:25). What glorious truth, worthy of trust and full acceptance!

My young grandsons sometimes ask, “Grandmommy, what’s your favorite color?” I have a new answer!

And awe? Prompted by awe, I got lost in perusing all the purple, beholding the different shades and seeing how the flowers accessorized in the context in which they grew, how they composed in their space, and how they were influenced by the lighting. Awe induced me to put them on display in some fashion, not simply their purple magnificence, but ultimately as a means of pointing to God the Creator—proclaiming His handiwork, my joy in it, and inviting you my readers to enjoy.

Awe also bid me give words to my delight, which I share in closing:

I praise you Lord for the splendor of the work of Your hands!

It declares Your glory; it bears witness, manifesting Your unfathomable creative powers.

In it I acknowledge Your loftiness and my creatureliness—

You summon my delight; You stir up the gifts of wonder and awe;

I’m drawn closer as my soul is prompted to adore, to ask, and to proclaim.

In the splendor of Your work, I savor Your presence—a knowing that we are together, and I want more;

It entrusts me to Your greater revelation, Your Word that is our life.

There I marvel at the outpouring of Your life-giving Fatherly love.

Praise to the Lord for His beautiful creation!

*I’m grateful for Brené Brown and her book, Atlas of the Heart, Mapping Meaningful Connection and the Language of Human Experience, which has influenced my understanding of wonder and awe. This book has been valuable in helping me better understand the gift of emotions.

Reassurance on a Cloudy Day

Posted on April 30, 20222 Comments

Thank you to many dear readers who have reached out to let me know you’ve missed my blog posts! This has been a real encouragement to me as I’ve imagined an end to this unexpected hiatus from the blog. As I pray for direction in writing, your responses are very helpful!

Sometimes, I think I’ve seen everything there is to see on my walk through our neighborhood and wonder if I’ve photographed all the beautiful and interesting finds. A few weeks ago, I discovered again that’s not true. I was walking my preferred route, so I can calculate I’ve walked by this tree for up to twenty spring seasons. This particular day was cloudy, and my eye was drawn to a beautifully bold magenta-pink color. I wasn’t sure what I was seeing—they looked like buds, but they were in the wrong place! Instead of up in the canopy, they were down low in the tree, actually emerging from the largest branches and a few from the trunk.

Were they actually new stems, disease, or maybe some brightly colored glob of mold?

I crept into this neighbor’s yard, tiptoeing onto their property uninvited to get a closer look. Yes, they were flower buds!

The trunk and branches were old and gnarly, and lichens were plastered onto the bark. Scars were visible from the pruning wounds of previous years. Yet the bud clusters were stunningly beautiful and delicate, their color glorious on that cloudy day. I mused, “How could something so fragile burst forth from such a dead-looking, hard, and dried up place?”

Then came a kind and gentle voice.

Yes, I am able. I can bring forth beauty from even the oldest, most crusty and hardened of places.

Oh my – a quiet encounter with wonderful reassurance from my Heavenly Father! In kindness He pulled me aside to illustrate His reminder for that particular day. He’s saying His work, the transformation of my soul, is ongoing. Even though my old nature and my ingrained habits seem so established, my deconstruction is still in progress. He is able (Ephesians 3:20), I can trust Him (Proverbs 3:5-6), and He has beauty in mind.

I’m reminded that in our journey with Christ, He will never stop fashioning His beauty in us until we see Him face to face.

One of my favorite verses comes to mind:

One thing have I asked of the LORD, that I will seek after:
That I may dwell in the house of the Lord all the days of my life,
To gaze upon the beauty of the Lord
And to inquire in His temple.
Psalm 27:4

Second Corinthians 3:18 tells us that “we all, with unveiled face, beholding the glory of the Lord, are being transformed into the same image from one degree of glory to another. For this comes from the Lord who is the Spirit.”

I stalked this Eastern Redbud for several weeks to watch its progress. I had been so surprised by the tree’s beauty and how it arose from an unexpected and odd place. Like the tree, we aren’t disqualified from transformation because of our age or life stage. As we gaze on Him, intently observing His promises and His ways—beholding His glory, He will be reflected more and more in our lives. Though our habits can be hardened into place, our ways of thinking and processing seemingly instinctive, our desires stubbornly planted, He is able to do as He has promised.

I wonder. Are you like me? Do you find the promises and wonderful benefits of being His child too magnificent and manifold to hold in the forefront of your mind? I’m so grateful for the Holy Spirit He has given His children—for His witness to us (John 14:16-17, John 15:26) and His reminders! It is through the Spirit we guard what’s been entrusted to us (2 Timothy 1:14) and it’s though His Spirit we are transformed (2 Corinthians 3:18).

“Lord, thank You for the fresh beauty of a new season that points us to You and reminds us we continue to be transformed through beholding Your glory. Thank You for the gift of the Holy Spirit who reveals more and more of Christ to us, taking us deeper in the truth and bringing joy and worship as we discover new facets of who You are.”

In researching this unusual blooming pattern of the Eastern Redbud, I learned it’s definitely out of the ordinary in our temperate zone! This characteristic is termed “cauliflory.” To learn more about this unusual trait, take a peek at my Interesting Finds page.

If you would like more in depth reading on the continuous process of our transformation, I recommend Transformation by Beholding (biblehub.com) by Alexander Maclaren D.D.

Evidence of the Unseen

Posted on April 26, 20214 Comments

Seeing those little green tips emerge from the ground thrills me every spring. Here in my garden, it’s the signal that Daffodils or Hostas are coming to life. They are welcome harbingers, issuing forth that anticipatory sign that the season is changing and warmer weather is really returning.

This year the daffodil tips broke ground the week of Christmas, and began blooming the first week in March. I could see them from the breakfast room window. You can probably imagine what I did most every day during that 10-week period. Yes, I would peek out the window to check on them, wondering how they would manage in the cold, the ice, and the seemingly unending periods of rain. I would imagine how they were going to look in bloom.

Now the Hostas, are emerging, and again, I’m enchanted.

Part of my fascination with them is that one day I seeing nothing, and the next day there’s something mysteriously coming forth, something fresh — a verdant green that contrasts with the faded mulch and dried dead leaves. While I was unaware, in the hard, cold, dark earth, plenty was going on, a glorious work. The emerging shoots are evidence of that unseen process.

Let me pause to ask – have you ever cut open a daffodil or tulip bulb and looked inside? If not, get an onion or garlic clove, which are similar to flower bulbs, and cut one from top to bottom. Flower bulbs also have those white outer layers seen in the onion or garlic and the green shoot you see in the middle when it’s aged a bit. The white outer layers are filled with food the new plant will need to grow. That little greenish shoot in the center is the flower and leaves, already formed, that will emerge from the ground. Everything for the blooming season is already developed and stored in the bulb, flowers and all!

After they bloom each year, the remaining greenery uses photosynthesis to build up the energy stores that will enable them to bloom the following year. When the foliage turns to yellow and brown, the energy moves down into the bulb. As they prepare for a time of dormancy in the winter, new bulbs are produced and they grow roots to take in water. As the temperature drops and the days grow shorter, the bulbs know it’s time to rest. Hormones are produced that tell them when to start growing again, and they use the stored energy to push the leaves and flowers up through the ground. Although Hostas aren’t true bulbs, they too have that period of dormancy and save energy in their crown for the next growing season.

I’m stunned by the magnificence of the biological process. I’m drawn to worship as it speaks to me of the One who has designed it all. Yet there’s more here to discern than the biological process; there are some treasures to mine, and in the darkest part of my year, these fresh green shoots are just the visual I need.

They exhibit for me that God is at work even when I can’t see it. When I feel I’m in a dark time, there is a work taking place. Like in a bulb, the nature of the work in my heart requires it be unseen, but with time His handiwork becomes evident. Moreover, I cannot look to external circumstances and appearances to gauge reality. I am encouraged, in faith, to focus my thoughts on God, His nature and His promises, and believe on Him as my only reliable resource for truth. Faith is “… the evidence of things not seen (Hebrews 11:1).”

The emerging tips also stir feelings of hope. They give me reason to expect the growth and beauty that will follow. My spirits are lifted as they prompt me to look forward with anticipation of what is to come. These hints of what’s ahead whisper to me of our ultimate hope in Christ. It is a hope that will not disappoint (Romans 5:5), for through Christ’s resurrection we obtain an inheritance that’s incorruptible, reserved in heaven, and kept by the power of God through faith (I Peter 1:3-5).

Their emergence from the ground makes me wonder how they were able to push up through the soil and layers of mulch, why they came up so fresh and clean and green after pushing through dirt, and why they don’t freeze. I notice that sometimes a cluster of tips will lift a clump of packed mulch or a single tip may slice through a dead leaf as it grows. In all of this, they inspire me to persevere and rely on God for strength. He provides all they need to thrive. As my heavenly Father I trust He will do the same for me (2 Peter 1:3).

“O Lord Your lovingkindness is so abundant towards us! These visuals you provide in nature are a means to rehearse your truth and reflect on Your character, to meditate on Your promises and lean into Your presence. Build in us a faith that pleases You and provides the hope of this inheritance. Thank You for Your mercy and for providing all we need for life and godliness.”

I dedicate this post to the memory of a dear follower of Tarry There who passed into the loving arms of Christ since my last post. Donna loved Jesus and like me, enjoyed His presence in the garden. I’ve been told she had many Hostas in her garden! I know her faith has become sight and look forward to conversations with her in the gardens of the new earth.