The Celebrating Soul

The Complexity of “Still”

Even with all the ugly stuff that’s happened in my garden this summer (hello squirrels and bunnies), I still got a bouquet like this.

I still have a wild grape vine climbing high to make a beautiful trellis. I still have sunflowers daring to bloom in the midst of destruction. I still pick ripe tomatoes from my bare, eaten-up tomato plant. I still have rose bushes that bloom and some that tenaciously keep growing to get established despite repeated setbacks. Still. What a complicated word.

“I’m still here. . .”

“I’m still walking through this. . .”

“I’m still afraid. . .”

But also!

“I’m still growing here.”

“I’m still healing in the midst of this.”

“I’m still braver than I was yesterday.”

This 2020 slapped-together garden born from quarantine is all sorts of messy, but it holds the complicated concept of Still. Which is all of us. Go ahead and take Monday by the horns.

Because you can.

Poetry

The Colors of Hope

Experiencing and expressing pain is always vulnerable, but you know what? Experiencing and expressing joy is vulnerable too. I’m so glad God is with us for both. Could it be we feel overwhelmed and filled with unrest because we are afraid to rejoice? I’m glad we don’t have to feel brave to bravely open our hearts to the joy, hope, and healing of God.

We can open up.

Poetry

What If I Wasn’t Meant for More?

This year, my husband and I planted several varieties of sunflowers. The first to bloom was orange and on fire. The second was giant and beautiful yellow. And the third? Well I’m not sure how long it took me to notice. It’s shorter than the others, far more simple, easily lost in the vibrancy and height of the ones “ahead” of it.

So, this poem came about after my delightful discovery of the shorter, simpler sunflower.