Day 8: Ninja for Jesus

My parents live on this little road that doesn't go very far in any direction. There are about 7 or 8 houses in the entire little area and it is one of those rare cases where almost everyone knows each other. Some of them we simply know names and wave a greeting on the way to the mail box, but a few actually stop by or interact with each other on a somewhat regular basis.

When our Nan was dying the neighbors directly across from us, a sweet older couple, would come by every day or two and asked us if they could do anything. The husband, Jim, will come over and feed Charlie for my parents at times when my parents can't make it. And when Nan was still alive, they would come and check on her when my parents were away more than a few hours.

Today, as we were leaving the house, Jim was outside and we decided to return a bread plate that he and his wife, Suzanne had brought us some treats on. We got to talking about everything... he told us old war stories, about what he did with his retirement, how he and his wife met, his hobbies. He took us to see his glass shop where he has a ton of broken glass that he melts down in a kiln and makes pendants and other neat things with. He also crafts beautiful wind chimes out of glass, wood and bits of sea shore treasures that he picks up on frequent excursions to the beach.

He agreed to let us to come over and work in his shop and use some of his clay and the kiln if we agree to let him sell our creations if they turn out to be anything so genius! We are excited to play, and excited to get the chance to talk with Jim more. Jim is an old Vietnam veteran that has lost a wife and seen quite a bit of heart ache, and Suzanne has cared for the sick and dying for years. Both carry their share of pain and hurt, with a need for a place to put it.

God laid it on my heart to bless them... they were to be my Lenten blessing offering. But How? I don't have anything to give them. Especially after all they have done for us.

Take them flowers.

We didn't have the money to buy flowers so we decided we would have to pick them. I forgot that this is Oregon, and its winter... few flowers have what it takes to bloom this time of year! So, we drove around for an hour and a half looking for flowers that weren't on somebody's property. We didn't want to break the Ten Commandments whilst blessing someone. Personal rule.

Finally we found four yellow flowers on the side of a back road and had to climb a few puddles to pick them. Then we decided to try an old swimming spot that we remembered being full of blooming flowers whenever we went. When we got there we couldn't see any and almost left, but I felt compelled to get out of the car and look. I walked past the path into a small grass plot and rounded a few trees. Hidden behind the trees was a bush as tall as me, filled with the most beautiful and obviously resilient white flowers. I picked three of them and put them with the others.

By the end of the journey we had a beautiful bouquet of flowers to give them that we tied with a yellow string and topped with a small paragraph about God's beautiful garden of life, written in pink on a 5x7 blank white index card. We also gave them a little picture of the ocean with, "You are a blessing!" written on the back.

Everything we gave was supplied by God's provision. Every flower was a divine creation placed in just the right soil to grow no matter the environmental obstacles... beautiful representations of His intricate and elaborate artistry. And He designated each one of them for those that He loved!

The flowers were not from us... we were simply the messengers sent at such a time as this... so we wanted to leave them to be found the next morning. They are late nighters, however and so we had to go just before our bedtime, in the cover of the night, like ninjas! We stealthily made our way across the street, avoiding any automatic lights that would give away our presence, and put them on the trunk of Suzanne's car under the car port. They would be in plain view when they came out the side door, which they used most often.

We weren't so ninja on the return however, as we were laughing hysterically as we ran, full sprint, across the gravel street and back into our own house.

Fun! Thank you for letting me be a part of it!

The next day I was looking at pictures that Heather had taken of their backyard while Jim and I talked and realized that they loved gardens and flowers. There was even a plaque that read, "The kiss of the sun for pardon, the song of the birds for mirth, one is nearer God's heart in a garden, than anywhere else on earth." How fitting that He would then speak to them through such an offering!