Seeds in our hands


Joy is like the light on her face, as she sits there on her front porch steps reveling in the new sunshine of the day. The door is open behind her, a flag of welcome both to refreshed air wafting in and to friends passing by, and makes me think of the warm wood of her English-paned sunroom in the back, where she occasionally hosts book club and where I have ofttimes sunk against comfy sofa and dreamt of transforming such a space in my own home.  Someday.

As I round the corner, breathing in the grace of early morning and stretching limbs, she calls to me.  The cheer of a neighbor, acquaintance who is glad to see you, inhabitant of my small world.  She invites, I accept…Then, beneath buttercup canopy of quaint porch, beside the sail-white rails where light is playing dapple games at our feet, we linger over lemonade and how are you doings and breezy conversation.  There’s comfort and comfortable in living where you know neighbors beyond impartial waves across lawn and drive.

Like cookies warm from the oven…the scent lingers on. The aroma of getting to know and be  known, if only just a smidgeon.

So when I hear her news, that economy makes for downsizing I know she didn’t plan, I feel bereft for her, somehow.  For her smile-masked grieving.  For the loss of a good neighbor.  And most of all… the loss of opportunity between us.

They moved three hours away, she and her husband.  Sometime later returned quite unexpectedly to a place just around the corner. And renewed chance, as our neighborhood still welcomes her as part, if one road away-removed.

And this Lent, prayer is willowing a wispy idea that has ruffled like a breeze against my thoughts these past two years…

Of creating and gifting a touch of heirloom surprise…

A memory-keeper of a cottage beloved — for over a chair, or mantle or couch.

Maybe not the over-sized one we once discussed… but perhaps… in a way… fitted, like a locket photo of His heart.

Let your love be the light she sees each time she looks at this, Lord, I pray as I pencil-brush on the buttercup, wisp light blue here and there, across the sky.  Somehow finding You… in the lovely… of memories evoked here.

Stock Photo - Hands holding seeds. Fotosearch - Search Stock Photography, Print Pictures, Images, and Photo Clip Art

And I thank Him for little seeds He puts in our hands to encourage and cheer… in out of the blue, surprise party kind of delights.

It might be a cookie gift box, as I read in Guideposts this morning, of a woman who received a beautifully wrapped box of homemade goodies along with a note to fill it up when emptied, and pass it on… The smiles upon giggles that box has wrought…

It could be a balloon or a vase of flowers left anonymously by a door, a cheery email card… a thinking of you phone call.

Or… even… a yellow bungalow pen & ink bouquet… from His Hand to me, and to another.

Are there Lenten seeds in your hand today earmarked for bestowing Easter blessing?   Let us gaily sprinkle them!  🙂

©  Pam Depoyan


Just as rain and snow descend from the skies
    and don’t go back until they’ve watered the earth,
Doing their work of making things grow and blossom,
    producing seed for farmers and food for the hungry,
So will the words that come out of my mouth
    not come back empty-handed.
They’ll do the work I sent them to do,
    they’ll complete the assignment I gave them

Isaiah 55:10,11  The Message

Linking with Holley  (even though a tad late)  🙂

Coffee-for-Your-Heart-150   Also sharing with:    Teaching What Is Good  Inspire Me Monday

Essential Thing devotions

raysofgraceandjoy.blogspot.comLink  up Unite @Rich Faith Rising   Monday Praises 

Drawing: © mine, please do not copy these without permission.   :)   Thank you!  See my pen & ink HOME PORTRAITS link.


About Pam@Writing...Apples of Gold

I love to hear your thoughts, even chat back and forth amongst comments.Won't you join the conversation? :) ..................................................................................................................... May my stories refresh you, like a whisper from our Father's Heart !
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10 Responses to Seeds in our hands

  1. lolita says:

    WOW, “a yellow bungalow pen & ink bouquet.” So beautifully creative. I am myself imagining the sweetness of that thought, a gift to bestow so aromatic of the Maker.

    Thank you that I have also been a recipient of such a bean from Him to you to me.

    That’s a lovely pen and ink of the yellow bungalow, Pam. It comes alive with the love deep inside of you and into paper. The sun is shining over the home….. so lively and so charming.

    • Thank you, Lolita! It’s so good to hear from you! I haven’t given it to her yet…but soon. I hope she sees what you see in it! I couldn’t match the true light color of the house with the pencils I used (they don’t seem to make the same color in pencil)… It’s really a lighter and prettier shade of yellow than the actual drawing (though this scan here is pretty close to the way it looks in person – scans are usually a little lighter than my originals for some reason). But I think this has the feel of it. It will be a surprise though, and those are always fun.

      Thanks, Lolita. Your words are your seeds in hand 🙂

  2. Mary Gemmill says:

    Pam- this touching post has blessed my heart today and left me thoughtful about where I can sow Lenten seeds- love this concept- thank YOU.

    The Burmese teenager who is very dear to me was touched and delighted with the book- again- thanks !



    • Thank you, Mary! That book was a seed from CS to me to you and on to your teen friend! 🙂 Love that! Thanks for telling me. God seemed to put that thought of Lenten seeds in me, but of course it is true all year long too… glad it touched you too!

  3. Oh yes, may we scatter seeds of love and grace. Thanks for sharing this over at Rich Faith Rising!

  4. laura says:

    So beautiful, Pam. And your drawing is exquisite! Holding your words close this season, thinking of the seeds I have to give. He shines lovely colors through you… 🙂

  5. Pingback: Expectation | Writing… Apples of Gold

  6. Pingback: When you are in between what once was home and now is… | Writing… Apples of Gold

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