Just When You Least Expect It

Well, after 3 1/2 years, it finally happened...I got Covid. I took every precaution, at least until very recently. I had the first two Covid vaccines and 2 boosters. I am up to date on all that, and yet here we are. 

So, in spite of a positive test this week, I'm doing much, much better and am almost back to normal. 

I don't have any idea where I was exposed. Friday and Saturday, I had been to Walmart, and to a local restaurant. I really don't get out much. I'll probably never know where I was exposed to the virus.

The weekend was normal for the most part, but Sunday night I started to get a sore throat and slight headache. I checked my temperature and by bedtime it was about 98.7, which is close to normal for most people. I went to bed thinking it would be ok in the morning. Allergies, right?

Monday morning my throat was still sore and my temp was 99.2. Still not a high fever, but definitely not normal, either. So after I got dressed I reluctantly went to Walmart (being careful to wear a mask into the store) in search of Covid tests.

There were none. The pharmacist said they had put out a new shipment on the shelf that morning and they were all gone within an hour.

There's really no other option for tests in this town; there's only one Walmart. There is a Walgreen's, and other pharmacies of course, but I had heard that cases were up in the area so I figured they were probably out as well. So I headed for the walk-in clinic. I felt it was the best option; after all, I had a sore throat and slight headache. I didn't really feel that well. Plus, if I was contagious, I didn't need to be going all over town.

After a short wait, I was called back and tested for strep and Covid. And the winner was: COVID.

I was truly shocked. I had really thought I would "out-run" this virus. I still carry hand sanitizer in my car and use it after every visit to a store. I usually try to shop in off peak hours to avoid crowds. I had all the vaccines. Still, it finally caught up with me. I tried my best to stay out of its way, but it caught me anyway. 

I lamented to the doctor who broke the news to me, (who very wisely stayed all the way over by the door and wore her mask) that I had really thought I'd never get it, but I had let my guard down some recently by not wearing a mask anymore, even after I had heard that cases were up in the area. She consoled me by telling me that eventually everyone would probably get it, and that most people lately were having mild cases.

She told me to go home and quarantine until September 3. On that day and the following 5 days, I could be around people by wearing a mask.

Of course I did some research. This latest variant is more contagious and the incubation period is shorter--about 3.5 days according to latest data. But the consolation is that it's milder and lasts only about 5 days. 

So, I tested positive on Monday and it's now Thursday, day four. I am so thankful to have had a mild case. In earlier days of the virus, I lost friends to Covid. I knew it could be brutal.

By the grace of God, I have gone through the various stages pretty quickly.

Monday--sore throat and low-grade fever.

Tuesday--no more sore throat but a raging headache and temperature of 101.5 (my worst day). 

Wednesday--My headache was gone and temp was down to the low 99s, with a hacking dry cough. I lost taste and smell, mostly; I could smell some things and not others.

Today, Thursday--no fever since last night and the dry cough is gone, too. I have a productive cough that is diminishing as the day progresses. I still have diminished taste and smell. I'm hopeful that those will come back.

Thank you to all my friends and family who have prayed for me. I have felt your prayers. God has been right beside me every minute, as He always is.

To my friends back home in the Van Buren area: Sorry I didn't let you know. It kind of blindsided me to be honest. I am almost myself again and as Buddy said on Night Court (iykyk), "I'm feeling much better now!" 

GOD is GOOD. All the time. He sustains me; He is healing me as I type this.

Please take precautions, friends. Covid is still out there, and apparently cases are on the rise with the new variant. 

I leave you with this: Three days out of 4 this week my little daily calendar that has an encouragement or scripture has said things pertaining to our lives being exactly as long as God means them to be. I don't think it's a coincidence. He knows I have lost friends to this virus and was a little scared of it. 

"All the days planned for me were written in your book before I was one day old." Psalm 139:16 NCV

Blessings and love, my friends! <3

I'm Still Pressing On

Two years ago today, at approximately 9:00pm, I rolled into the town where I now live, backed up into the driveway of my daughter's basement apartment, and was greeted by a welcoming committee: my daughter, son-in-law, granddaughter, and grandson ran out to greet me, welcoming me to their town and their home. 

They immediately started unloading my car, which was crammed full of the last of my belongings from my house in my hometown. Over the course of several weeks, they had made trips to get my furniture and items I could live without until I closed on my house. This was the last hurrah. The caboose. The final load of random stuff. 

The end of the chapter had come earlier that day. I had spent the day loading the car in sweltering 100 degree heat and cleaning the house. I looked through every nook and cranny, making sure I had everything. I walked through each room, remembering events of the 12 years I had spent in my little bungalow that I was able to buy on my own (with God's help, of course) in 2009. I was so proud of that little house. 

After all I had been through, I never thought I'd be able to buy a house of my own. But GOD...He gave me a better job, helped me get out of debt, and eventually, found me the perfect little house.

It felt like a miracle to me. I believe it was.

It was bittersweet to sell it and move 175 miles away to a small town in the middle of nowhere that I had only visited 2-3 times a year since my daughter had lived here. Only the grace of God could have enabled me to do that. Looking back, I know that was the only way I had the strength and fortitude to do what I did.

I believe God gave me the ability to do this hard thing because it's part of His plan for me. I really believe I'm supposed to be here, at this time and in this town.

So, when the time for the loan closing came in the late afternoon, I locked up the house, gave it one last look, and drove downtown to the office to sign the papers.

Tears might have been shed at some point in the process. I went and said goodbye to my cousin at her workplace, drove to where my best friend works and said goodbye to her, then, with one more look at my beloved hometown, where I had lived for 66.5 years (my entire life up until that day), I got on the highway and started the long drive to the town I now call home.

I knew no one here except my daughter, her family, and her in-laws, who live about 30 minutes away. 

I no longer live in her basement; I was able to find a duplex across town, around 10 minutes from her for a decent monthly rent and moved in September 2021.

It hasn't always been rosy and happy; I have had some sad days along the way. I miss my friends in what will always be considered "back home." I miss my little house. I miss the entire town. 

But...I'm finally starting to feel like I belong here now. 

It's wonderful having family 10 minutes away. I love seeing my daughter, son-in-law, and grandkids more than 2-3 times a year. I get to go to school events. I pick the grandkids up from school a lot of the time. I have made some great friends, and I have found a church home. 

Who says a single woman can't start a new chapter in her late 60s?

All in all, I'd say it's going ok here in my new town. 

"...forgetting what lies behind and reaching forward to what lies ahead, I press on toward the goal for the prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus." Philippians 3:13-14 

In front of my little house in VB 2021

On the patio in my new digs 2023

July 2023 - new home

Work Looks Different These Days

A couple of days ago, I realized I hadn't been writing in my journal. In fact, I became aware that I was not lingering as long to hear from the Spirit in my quiet time in the mornings, when I have prayer and Bible reading. 

Ironically, I finally became aware of this because I lingered a little longer. Yep.

I had been reading Psalm 34 over and over; I read some parts out loud, and I sat and meditated on what its meaning was. The whole chapter is amazing, but I want to focus on this part:

Keep your tongue from evil and your lips from speaking deceit. Depart from evil and do good; seek peace and pursue it. Psalm 34:13, 14.  

The last phrase, "seek peace and pursue it" really hit home with me. I started thinking, how do I seek peace?

This led me to ponder why I haven't been sitting as long, listening, and writing in my journal. Then I began to comprehend what was going on:

I feel like I should be "busy;" up and dressed and "doing something constructive." All those years I was in the work force, I was up and "being constructive" by no later than 7:30 am in the morning in the school office. 

It dawned on me that I have been feeling like I'm being lazy. I have falsely believed that "busy is good" and "being still is laziness."

But, as I have discovered in the last few years, I'm a writer. It's actually my only job now, since I retired. Writers have to sit still to write what they need to write. It's how they do their work; it's the method needed to do their job!

Since retirement last July, I have not ceased being busy; and when I am not being busy and on my feet doing some type of physical work like laundry, housework, or sorting through stuff to donate, I have fallen into the trap of feeling guilty for not being productive. 

Sidenote: I've even allowed myself to feel guilty for reading so much more (mostly an hour before bed, or 15 minutes here and there waiting to pick up the grandkids). I've averaged about a book a week since January 1. 

It is probably understandable to still feel like I need to be doing something; after all, I had to pull my non-morning-person self up and force myself out the door to work for so many years. So many years.

Back then, I had a sense of purpose. I knew what I was supposed to do. It was, by the way, a desk job requiring me to sit and do computer work and deposits and all that bookkeeper type of stuff.  Strange that I never felt like I was not being productive by sitting still back then.

It was a wonderful job, and it was given to me by God. I loved my job, and because God gave it to me, He enabled me to be good at it. In and of myself I wouldn't have been able to do it. 

It was actually painful to give it up, but I knew deep in my heart that it was time...time to do the job God has given me for this next phase of my life.

Writing.

God put writing within me a long time ago. It's a gift; part of His spiritual gift in me of encouragement. 

How does that work? A person who has struggled with depression and anxiety for most of her life is an encourager?

Crazy I know. But here we are. However, I always know I have to lean close in and hear from God. I cannot do this without Him. He gets all the glory that way.

So, if He wants me to exercise my gift to write and encourage, He knows I have to have some part of my day to sit and do just that. Therefore, I should not feel guilty for sitting and listening to the Lord when I'm meditating on His word.

Some people are called to do the more physical things, like those called to hospitality. Man, I wish I could do those things! Those people who love to cook and plan parties and stuff like that. God love them, they are so important! We need them. I'm in awe of them; I can't do what they do. 

I am not that person, and I've finally just admitted it.

I can no longer accept the condemnation heaped on me by my own perception of what productivity looks like. I've felt inadequate for far too long. Those people who are naturally physically active people who have the capacity to be more active, those who like to cook and entertain, or the ones who are outgoing and can talk to people with ease are exercising their God given gifts. God put that within them to do those things.

I'm no way trying to say they are better than I am, or I am better than they. Please hear my heart on this. 

They have their job to do, and I have mine.

"Lord, today I accept the assignment You gave me all those years ago when I accepted You as Savior, and I fully embrace it. I will be still and know you are God; and I will write."

Blessings, friends. 💗

Meanwhile, in a Nearby Small Town...

Well, ok, it's not so nearby to most of my friends and family, but I have been busy in the town I moved to in August.

I have once again been too busy to write. In mid-September I found a duplex for rent and my contract started on Sept 15, the birthday of my firstborn child. I spent the last half of September moving in, and have been getting settled in my new place since then. I decided to rent for a while because the housing market is crazy right now. Everything is sky-high expensive. I will possibly look into buying in a year...or maybe I'll just continue to rent. It's kind of nice to not have to worry about the expenses that come with being a homeowner, and the rent is decent.

I've kind of fallen into the rabbit hole of YouTube videos; specifically those about minimalism, rental renos, and decorating. I pulled myself away to write because lately I've been feeling like I am supposed to. Actually, I've felt like I'm supposed to write a book, maybe more than one, for a while now. So I'm exercising the typing muscles and writing in my blog. 

All the YouTube videos have made me feel inadequate to some degree, but my gift is writing, not public speaking. I don't think I could ever feel comfortable doing a "vlog," as they call the video version of blogging. It's just not me.

But will anyone continue to read my blogs? In today's world, no one seems to have time to read; everyone wants to watch or listen. Several people I know listen to podcasts every day for their daily Bible reading and for devotionals.

Maybe that's why I need to pursue the book-writing. 

Call me old-fashioned; I still like the written word. I have read 21+ books (that's an estimate; I've actually lost count) in 2021; most of those since I retired in June. I have really enjoyed having time to read, but I don't read more than about an hour a day because I have so many other things I want to do.

That's really all I have for the moment. If you read this, consider commenting either on the blog post or Facebook or Twitter. Would you continue to read a blog, or have you become more accustomed to listening instead of reading?

I'd be interested to know if I still have any followers. 

This scripture has stuck with me for days now; it causes me to think about my sphere of influence, and how can fulfill the plans God has for me? He has put a fire into my heart to write. Maybe that's what I'm supposed to do, either with more regular blogging (MUCH more regular blogging), and eventually, books?

"Devote yourselves to prayer, keeping alert in it with an attitude of thanksgiving; praying at the same time for us as well, that God will open up to us a door for the word, so that we may proclaim the mystery of Christ..."  Colossians 4:2,3 NASB

The Return of the Daffodil

This time a year ago I was lamenting over our early spring-like weather, and complaining that I had a single daffodil that braved a cold, but above freezing, rainy week in late February and finally bloomed in spite of the adverse conditions. 

I was so bummed, because I wanted some winter, and desperately wanted it to snow.

Here is that blog post if you didn't read it and want to. If my link doesn't work (I'm really rusty on my html skills), just copy and paste it into your browser:

<a href=https://debbiev120.blogspot.com/2018/02/just-daffodil.html/">Just a Daffodil</a>

Or, just look for it in the blog archive to the right. It's one of the very few that I wrote in 2018.

Long story short, the next day after my lone daffodil bravely bloomed, someone picked it out of my yard. I was so upset! I had watched its progress all week and when it finally bloomed, it was stolen.

So this year, it is once again too warm for February, as it usually is in my part of the country, and spring flowers are coming up all over the place. One such place is my front yard, in the same area where I had one daffodil last year. Only this year, there is not one. There are seven!

Seven flowers are coming up where I had one last year! I'm actually excited to see them this year. I am resigned to the fact that we don't often get to have winters like I would like to have anymore.  Someday, after I retire, I will most likely move farther north so I can enjoy my favorite season and maybe even see snow sometimes.

Yes, I know; I'm the opposite of normal. Most people move south when they retire, but I detest hot, sticky, and humid southern summers. I always have. If I move, it will be north.

So what did I learn from the daffodils blooming? Without reading too much into it, I feel like it's a reminder of blessings I have been given.

For instance, there is the obvious, like the number of friends and family members I have now compared to years ago when I first found myself single and alone. God has been gracious and generous and He set this lonely girl into a family (Psalm 68:6). I am so blessed.

There is also the not so obvious.

For one, maybe we all have the potential for much more than we first imagined. Spiritual gifts are within all followers of Christ, even if we don't see them or readily know what they are. We have to ask Him to show us, and He will.

Secondly, what seems insignificant and small, like the tiny lone flower, may just grow into an entire garden. We may share the Gospel with one, and that one may share with seven, and those seven may become hundreds. So we should always share our faith, even if it seems like we aren't doing enough. You never know what an impact you may have.

Finally, everyone matters. Everyone. No one is too small or insignificant for God to use. Each and every one of us matters to Him. We each may feel like we are only one person, and therefore we can't do much. God, however, will use each small act done in faith for His kingdom. 

Just like He multiplied that one, brave little daffodil into seven.

We have different gifts, according to the grace given to each of us. Romans 12:6 NIV

Back to Factory Settings

My soul has been disquieted with much turmoil within over the last year and a half or so. I really did not know what was going on for a long time. I felt like I had no purpose anymore. Finally, it has begun to come into focus for me. God has been cleaning out my heart, removing idols and tearing down the high places.

There has been a lot of closet cleaning so to speak. God has a way of finding things hidden away in my heart that I didn't know or remember were there. Broken dreams and a shattered future are among the things He dug out, things I had already given to Him...or thought I had.

According to what God's Word says about me, I am worth more than I had come to believe over the last couple of years. He says in Jeremiah 29:11 "For I know the plans I have for you," declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future."

All along I have felt like my future was destroyed many years ago when the marriage broke up. It has come to my attention that even if the future I thought I wanted and needed was shattered, God still has one for me. He did not give up on me even though I felt like I was no good, of no use to anyone many times. None of this took Him by surprise.

The words "factory settings" came to me recently when I was meditating on God's word and what He has for me. I did a word search on "back to factory settings." Turns out it means the item (or person in this case) is made as good as new.

As if I was never damaged.

As if I had never been enticed away from my true calling to languish in a perception that I needed something or someone I didn't have.

As if I had never thrown caution to the wind and set aside my purpose, to follow a purpose I thought I saw....just beyond the mist...just out of my reach.

I have been looking through a distorted lens; seeing things as if in a carnival fun house mirror. I wasn't seeing truth; I was believing a lie.

Jesus has shown me that He has picked me up...again...and set me on the right path.

He is even now in the process of restoring my soul "back to factory settings." This process has been painful at times. My heart has once again been broken beyond repair by anyone but the One who built it.

Fortunately for me, I know the the One who made me very well. I am confident of this, that "He who began a good work in (me) will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus." Philippians 1:6.

Praise the Lord!

 

Sitting Beside the Still Waters

"The Lord is my Shepherd, I shall not want. He makes me to lie down in green pastures; He leads me beside the still waters. He restores my soul...."

It's been 3 months since I wrote in the blog. In the 9 years I've been writing here, that's the longest I have ever gone without writing. 

Right about the first of the year, I felt like the Lord was leading me into a time of being still. Looking back, it was a good thing, and a restoring time. In the middle of it, though, at times it felt like a long dark valley. It seemed like I was putting one foot in front of the other, day by day, just getting through it. I'm sure most of you can relate to a time when you just kept pushing through, unsure when the clouds would break and you would see a ray of sunshine.

At one point a couple of months ago, I was tearing myself down in my prayer time one morning. I was telling God how hard I had been trying to be positive, show love and not hate, and keep my mouth shut a whole lot more. I was kind of depressed and felt like a failure at trying to change. Then I heard a familiar, sweet, still small voice say "your attempts to change yourself are futile. 'Turning over a new leaf' is a human attempt and will not produce lasting results. Cease striving. Let God do it. Be still."

When He had told me in December to "be still," I knew I would be sitting and just listening for His voice a lot. I didn't realize, though, that I would not be able to find the words to write about it. I've always been able to write. Not only was my heart still before Him; my "blogging pen" was as well. I still wrote in my journal regularly, but I never felt released to share anything until now. I couldn't (and shouldn't) write all that here, but here are some highlights.  Some of the things I heard when I was still before Him:

Focus on the positive. I became aware I used the word "hate" too much in my everyday speech. I would say "I hate spring" or "I hate hot weather" way too much; so much that I was convicted once I became aware of what I was saying.  When I asked the Lord how to stop myself from letting my mind run in those veins, He guided me to Philippians 4: 8,9 where it says:

"Fix your thoughts on what is true, and honorable, and right, and pure, and lovely, and admirable. Think about things that are excellent and worthy of praise. Keep putting into practice all you learned and received from me—everything you heard from me and saw me doing. Then the God of peace will be with you."

This segues nicely into another thing I heard the Lord say:

Enjoy being with family when you get a chance to be with them. I've mentioned before that I don't get to see my kids often, especially my sons because they live so far away. Well, God provided for me to fly to Houston for my youngest son's doctoral graduation in May. My daughter was not able to attend, but my oldest son, who lives in Georgia, flew there to see his little brother graduate. So I spent 4 days with both of my boys and my daughter-in-law in the fourth largest city in America. It was glorious! We talked and caught up on each others' lives, quoted movies a lot, visited museums, talked some more, had late night supper and coffee in the neatest little coffee shop, took a tour of the UH campus where my son got his doctorate, and just generally ran around together and had a great time. 

It was hard to tear myself away and come home, but I am determined to be thankful for those times, and not dwell on the space of time between the visits. I am grateful I could go and be with them.

I've felt like I'm waiting for things to be like I have asked God to let them be. I want to see the kids and grandkids more often.  I would like to live in a house located where I could see sunrises or sunsets. I want a really good prayer place by a window, like I had in the apartment I lived in for so long.  But then the questions started coming.

What if it's a long time before those things happen? Is my life continually on hold until everything lines up like I want it?

Is Jesus enough? If He never gives me those things which are wants, not needs, can I be content without them? 

What am I doing? Why am I not doing what God called me to do? 

I am called to write, to encourage, and to PRAY. That has been my calling since 1994 when Jesus saved me. There are several needs and people on my heart right now that God has placed on my heart to pray for daily. 

In all honesty, I haven't taken it seriously enough. I bought into the lies of the enemy that praying is what we do when we can't do anything else. 

I don't believe that anymore. That is untrue. Prayer is a very high calling, and I am ashamed to admit that I have been guilty of setting it aside. Just the other day, I heard the Spirit saying these words:

"Is Jesus enough for you? Search your heart. Find out if Jesus is enough...If He's not, repent, make it right with Him and allow Him back in the center of your heart. Then do your job--fulfill your calling. God has anointed you to write, encourage, and intercede."

My answer? Yes, Lord. 

I still don't have those things I have asked for, but it doesn't matter. What really does matter is Jesus is Lord of my life and the passion of my heart is to serve Him. 

So I will write to share His love so that by reading about what God has done for me, others will accept Him as their Savior. I will encourage others whenever I can, both in my writing and just in everyday life. And most of all, I will PRAY. 

The "time-out" I was in proved to be a good thing. Somewhere along the way, God changed my heart while I sat still. I am still under construction, as we all are, but my outlook is different. I get up every day now, thanking God for another day to live and serve Him.

Guess what? The clouds have parted and I can see the sun again.

Be Still

In my last post, I talked a little about seasons, and how I was unhappy that Spring was trying to come in February. I wanted seasons to behave as they are supposed to;  Spring should start around March 20, Summer June 21, etc.

Of course in reality, it never happens that way. Where I live, Spring usually starts in early March, and Summer starts in late April or early May and goes on until about October. During those months I'm usually complaining about the heat and how I hate hot weather.

Or in other words, I'm usually complaining about whatever doesn't suit me. I realized this as I was in prayer a few days ago and it shook me. I was convicted, and I repented. I asked God to forgive me, and change my perspective. I want to be an encouragement to others, not bring them down.

And then it hit me. Actually, it's not really the weather that has been bothering me, it's the fact that seasons are completely out of my control.

Completely. Out. of. My. Control.  [insert record-scratching sound effect here]

Now, as they say, we are getting down to it. We as humans love control; some of us more than others. It's one of the reasons why people have rejected Jesus down through the ages. They want to control their own life, make their own decisions, and ultimately, live their way until they are ready to die.

The irony is, no one is ever really in control of their own life. God is in control of everything; He always has been, always will be.

God controls the seasons in our lives. Yes, the physical seasons of winter, spring, summer, and fall, but more than that. He has a distinct plan for each of our lives, with seasons of different kinds woven into each plan.  Speaking in generalities, there is a season of childhood and a season when we are young adults, some of us getting married and having children of our own. There's a season when we are older and possibly grandparents.

There are also times in our lives when it feels like we are being disciplined. I believe God puts us in seasons like this to guide us and gently show us the way He wants us to go. Sometimes we may really enjoy the season we are in; sometimes, we may struggle and fight against what He is doing in our lives.

I'm of the opinion that if we fight what He is doing, we will just be in that situation longer. It is much better to submit to God's will. He promised to complete the work He started in each one of us. We just need to let Him get on with it.

In other words, just be still.

Since this little revelation, I have been attempting to "be still." He actually showed that to me shortly before 2018 began. Be still is my word for this season. I don't know how long it will be, but I am trying to not struggle and resist what God is doing in my life. I know He has a good plan for me, and He is not out to hurt me.

I hope you will also embrace whatever season God has you in, and be blessed.

"Be still, and know that I am God." Psalm 46:10

Just a Daffodil

It warmed up last week and some little green sprigs of the early spring plant life in my yard started popping up here and there. Since winter is my favorite season, I was a little disappointed to notice that it is coming to a close without giving us so much as a single snowflake this year. So I have tried to ignore the signs of spring coming to life around me. Kind of like saying it isn't there if I don't acknowledge it.

That works, right? Ignore it and it will go away.

This past Monday as I was backing out of the driveway to go to work, I noticed a tiny little yellow
bud in a small patch of green on the left side of the car. Inwardly, I groaned. It's a daffodil. Spring is as good as here when they arrive. 

Every day as I left and came back, I couldn't help myself. I was drawn to look to the left of the driveway. The bud was unchanged for most of the week. It had turned off colder early in the week, so this had no doubt slowed its progress. It has rained every day though, so there was no shortage of water for the tiny little flower. It was just a bit too cold for it to finish blooming.

Saturday mornings, I usually linger a bit longer in my quiet time because I don't have to go anywhere. As I sat in my recliner enjoying the rain, I noticed the little flower. It had bloomed. In spite of the colder temperatures, it had hung in there. It was still alive; even thriving. It was drooping a little, but only because it is so small and the rain was beating down on it. 

The Lord spoke to me as I sat looking at the little flower. I felt Him urging me to not be upset with the daffodil because it's merely doing what He created it to do.

Yes, Lord, I know it is, I reasoned. But it's not spring yet. It's February. It's still supposed to be winter, and we never even got any snow. As if  He didn't realize that.

I got up from my chair and went on about my Saturday, but I couldn't get the little daffodil out of my head. I even went out and took a picture of it. The picture attached is the actual daffodil in my yard.

I thought about it off and on all day, and it started to come into focus in my mind that God is speaking to me through a flower.  A flower, and a yellow one at that, when He knows I don't like yellow. It's my least favorite color.

Sunday morning, I was having coffee and prayer time and I stole a glance in the direction of the flower. It was still there; kind of droopy, but completely in bloom. 

It was the only one in the yard.

I'm still not sure what the Lord was saying to me. Possibly that everyone has a purpose, even a tiny, lone daffodil. It doesn't matter if you stand all alone, do what you were made to do. 

That's what the daffodil did. It did exactly what it was supposed to do, in spite of the cold, in spite of the rain. It took it all week, but it finally bloomed. 

I left for church, and the lone daffodil stood proudly, though still droopy. 

When I returned, the sun had been out all morning. For the first time in a week we had sunshine. I expected to see the daffodil finally straightened up with its face toward the sun.

But it was gone. My heart sank. I parked the car and walked over to where the flower had been. No sign of it anywhere. Not one indication remained that there had ever been a yellow daffodil there. The entire plant was gone. I looked all around, thinking maybe one of the squirrels ate it, but there was no yellow anywhere. I don't think it was a squirrel that got it, because they are messy; when they eat pecans on my porch they leave crumbs and shells everywhere.

I think someone picked it. Lots of people walk in my neighborhood and it was close to the street. 

I may never know why the slowly blooming, early daffodil caught my attention, but I actually felt loss when it was gone. I felt like I had been robbed. Actually, I had. It was on my property, so it was mine. 

I was looking forward to seeing it standing upright and not drooping and now I never would.

Pretty silly, I know. All this fuss over a daffodil when I don't like spring, or yellow. Somehow, though, I think something warmed slightly in my heart. The little analogy of a too tiny, too early daffodil resonates within me. A very important truth has been revealed to me.

No one is too small, too insignificant, for God to use. Not even a tiny daffodil. 

I will never look at daffodils the same.

"The Lord has made everything for its own purpose..." Proverbs 16:4 NASB