One tiny twinkling star

Imagine...

one tiny twinkling star

in the dark night

makes all the difference

to the person navigating a journey

with nothing else to guide them.

Let your light so shine

it may be someone's

one tiny twinkling star.

There is probably only one thing that can entice me away from spending time in my garden paradise

I love being in the garden. There is very little that can persuade me not to find an excuse to be out there. But there is one thing that will almost always lure me out of my serene little Eden--family history research.

I'm an avid family history researcher--a lover of history, old photographs and ephemera, and the possessor of an eye for deciphering cryptic handwriting and old newspaper print. I love piecing together a life story.

I suppose family history research is much like gardening. Every time I plant a seed in the ground it is a miracle to me that it grows into anything--let alone the beautiful flower or vegetable that it does. In family history research, I often start with just a grain of information. Sometimes only a name. It always amazes me when I am able to take that small seed of information and make it grow into the sketch of an individual's life.

There's another similarity between the garden and family history research...

The orange blossoms (featured here in the photos of this post) will need lots of cooperative effort provided by many insects and hummingbirds in order to pollinate them. That's the only way these blossoms will become the juicy oranges that I love to eat in the winter months.

Family history research is impossible without the collaborative effort of many individuals doing everything from preserving old documents to collecting the information into a usable set of searchable data online (and many other tasks in between). It is through those efforts that I am able to gather bits and pieces of information (much like a bee gathering pollen), compile the disparate pieces, and end up with rich and sweet life stories of individuals who have passed on.

And both my garden and my research bless my life in ways I cannot begin to enumerate. They are choice activities that bring me closer to my Maker more than any other I can think of.

Can you imagine...

"I like the idea of our words being clear as a sunny sky and full of grace.
Can you imagine what our families... nations... and even the world would be like
if we could adopt this simple principle?" Dieter F. Uchtdorf

Blogging and the joy of looking for "ladybug moments" in my life

My good blogging friend Jen at Muddy Boot Dreams asked three blogging questions in a recent post. Her questions are:

1. The main reason I blog is _____________________________? 

2. Blogging is part of my life, how much of a part is it? _____________________. 

3. I use blogging to ______________________________ in my life?

After reading her questions, I started thinking... a lot.

"What are my answers to these questions?" I kept asking myself.

With these questions swirling around in my head, I went on throughout my day doing the things I needed to get done on my "to do" list. One of my "to do's" was to send out inspirational letters to women in my church congregation that are unable to join us regularly. I have three women that I write to on a monthly basis as part of the visiting teaching program of the women's Relief Society in our congregation. Every month I hunt for a quote that I feel will resonate with them in some way. Sometimes I write the quote in a store-bought card and sometimes I create the card from start to finish. It's always a bit of a challenge finding the right quote. I always search with a prayer in my heart.

I found the quote I wanted (above) and then decided to pair it with a photo I took 5 years ago on a short trip I made with my mom to find some fall color north of us. We were winding up a less-traveled highway through a canyon filled with brilliant colored fall leaves. At one point we pulled over so I could take some shots. That's when I found the ladybug walking on the brilliant orange leaves of an oak tree sapling. It was there as if it was waiting for me to take the shot.

As I continued working on the card I would print and send out, I reflected on Jen's questions as well as the quote and the photo. The swirling thoughts began to come together. By the end of the process, I had my answers to Jen's questions.

The main reason I blog is...
The main reason I blog is to capture those moments that have made me feel grateful and brought me true joy. The moments are fleeting and can be easily missed--just like seeing a tiny ladybug crawling across an autumn leaf. I photograph things the same way. Here on my blog I write the words that are in my head about the moment I tried to capture photographically. If I don't write it down, it can easily be lost in the bustle of life, and then it's gone. That glimmering feeling that made my heart sing with pure joy for just a second or two would be lost if I didn't write it here.

Blogging is a part of my life... how much of a part is it?
Blogging is a constant undercurrent in my life because I approach it a lot like journaling. I try to capture vignettes and "ladybug moments" that are real and special so I can share them with my Hubby who is often at work when these moments happen. He's my best friend in the whole world and most of my blog posts are for him so he can feel connected to this place we love and cherish.

I use blogging to ??? in my life
I use blogging to stay grounded in what matters most in my life. The exercise of capturing those moments of joy and then showing my appreciation by recording them here on my blog keeps a sense of childlike wonder alive inside of me. In the New Testament of the Bible in Matthew 18:3-4 it says:

"...Verily I say unto you, Except ye be converted, and become as little children, ye shall not enter into the kingdom of heaven. Whosoever therefore shall humble himself as this little child, the same is greatest in the kingdom of heaven."

I believe that there is so much God wants to bless me with including insights into my real potential from His perspective. I am His child. He is my Heavenly Father in every sense of the title "Father". I believe that if I strive to see my life as if through the eyes of a child, He can share so much more with me than if I get bogged down in being a grownup.

Somehow trying to capture "ladybug moments" to share with Hubby keeps me from getting too bogged down in the mire of being an adult. Finding the magical moments to embrace, cherish and then share them with Hubby (and everyone else who reads my blog) in the hope that he (and you) can embrace and cherish those moments too, keeps that childlike spark alive and flickering inside me despite the winds and storms of life that try to snuff it out.

Come what may, I will continue to look for "ladybug moments" wherever I go. If I have my camera, I'll photograph the moments as best I can to capture the essence of that special blip in time. And I will continue to record them here on my blog... if for no one else than for me and Hubby.

Easter Reflections

Orange blossoms on the navel orange tree (Easter Sunday 2009)

Today, on Easter Sunday, I feel the need to post when I normally don't post on Sunday. I've had much to ponder and reflect upon since Palm Sunday last week. I went back to what I wrote last Easter and realized how so much can change in just one year's time--so very much. And yet there are some things that never change--the things that matter. I wrote last year:

"My garden inspires me to think of those things that matter in the whole eternal scheme of things. It never ceases to amaze me how trees, plants, and earth do that."

Maybe that is why so many of us are drawn to the garden, to the earth, and the soil under our feet. Maybe it is because while we are physically planting, sowing and tilling, we also find ourselves planting, sowing and tilling within our hearts and souls. We are finding a place for ourselves to grow.

Last year just before Easter, I had finished planting our olive tree. This year, I have just finished reading a wonderful book by Carol Drinkwater entitled "The Olive Farm". Over the past year, I've watched the little olive tree that I put into the ground. Olive trees grow slowly. They don't produce fruit until they are seven to ten years old. I've pruned my little olive already for this year. I am shaping her to become the "queen of the garden". Her shape must be started now so that as she grows into her life's purpose, her form is already there. I've thought about how much I am like an olive tree being pruned for a larger purpose that seems so far away in the future. I feel so small and so unfit, but the Master's hand knows best. He prunes and shapes me to fit my purpose.

Garlic chives in bloom (Easter Sunday 2009)

Easter always draws my mind back to the olive tree. Last year I reflected on the planting of our olive tree:

"There is something about planting an olive that is meaningful, spiritual, and deeply symbolic. The Garden of Gethsemane where Christ spent the night before his crucifixion had olive trees in it. The name 'Gethsemane' literally means 'olive oil press'. Christ spent those agonizing night-time hours being pressed emotionally, mentally, and physically until He bled from the pours of His skin. He was the only perfect and sinless person that had or will ever walk the earth. He was like a harvest of perfect olives used to produce the best and finest extra virgin olive oil--the oil that is prized because it is from the 'first press'. Christ's experience in Gethsemane was the 'first press' in so many ways. That Atonement that Christ performed that night, produced the finest and most precious gift that mankind could ever receive--an Atonement for our sins, our pains, our sorrows, and our iniquities.

"As I tamped down the earth around our own olive tree, all of these thoughts ran through my mind. I felt moved to offer a prayer after the planting was over to ask that the olive tree would thrive, prosper, and fulfill the measure of its creation here in our garden. As I closed the prayer with tear-filled eyes, I felt a closeness to my Savior. It was a fitting way to begin the week preceding Easter.

"As I have hauled each wheelbarrow full of gravel and placed it into the trenches that are now paths that run around and by the olive tree's planter, I realized how much that part of the garden is beginning to look like the way I have always envisioned Gethsemane looks even though I've never seen it in person. Over and over I have had the words of a song going through my head as I have worked--I Walked Today Where Jesus Walked. And today as I completed the last of the path that hides the main trench, I sat down to take a last look before the light in the spring sky faded too much for me to see. Again, the words ran through my head."

Southwest corner of Rosehaven Cottage's gardens (Easter Sunday 2009)

And as I walked through the garden taking photographs to capture the beauty of this Easter Sunday, I was struck again by very similar thoughts--and this, despite the fact that there has been so much progress and change in that space. Again, there are some things that are constant and unchanging. For instance, the changing of the seasons that I wrote about last year:

"Whether one is Christian or not, the season of Spring is full of hope and renewal. Even my friends in the southern hemisphere are celebrating a time where nature is getting ready for renewal by shedding the old."

Rose hedge on southern fenceline of Rosehaven Cottage's gardens (Easter Sunday 2009)

I think about the gifts that God has given us in nature--reminders of Him and the bigger picture. Even the seasons are a reminder to us of a larger principle. There is so much in my life that I wish to shed and be rid of--often daily. That just happens, because this is life. Each Sunday, I find such peace renewing myself with His help. I have learned that He doesn't care how many times I may stumble or fall. He cares whether I ask for His help in picking myself up to try again. It is a process of shedding and renewal that repeats around us in nature. And it is a process of shedding and renewal that I can repeat within my own heart. It is this that I am deeply thankful for this wonderful Easter Sunday.

Pacific Coast Native Iris growing at the pond's edge (Easter Sunday 2009)

Easter Weekend Reflections

All week I've been working away at my big drainage installation project in the back garden. This week was full of wheelbarrow after wheelbarrow of 3 cubic yards of pea gravel being pushed from the driveway in front to the back. The tedium of the task has allowed me to do a lot of reflecting. My garden inspires me to think of those things that matter in the whole eternal scheme of things. It never ceases to amaze me how trees, plants, and earth do that.

Early in the week I finally put the potted olive tree into the ground so it can set up permanent residence. I built up a planter for it out of chunks of recycled concrete, filled it with rich garden soil that had been compositing under the oleander for the past few years, and then manuevered the olive into place. Some narcissus, daffodils and tulips that needed new homes took up residence around the base of the olive.

There is something about planting an olive that is meaningful, spiritual, and deeply symbolic. The Garden of Gethsemane where Christ spent the night before his crucifixion had olive trees in it. The name "Gethsemane" literally means "olive oil press". Christ spent those agonising night-time hours being pressed emotionally, mentally, and physically until He bled from the pours of His skin. He was the only perfect and sinless person that had or will ever walk the earth. He was like a harvest of perfect olives used to produce the best and finest extra virgin olive oil--the oil that is prized because it is from the "first press". Christ's experience in Gethsemane was the "first press" in so many ways. That Atonement that Christ performed that night, produced the finest and most precious gift that mankind could ever receive--an Atonement for our sins, our pains, our sorrows, and our inquities.

As I tamped down the earth around our own olive tree, all of these thoughts ran through my mind. I felt moved to offer a prayer after the planting was over to ask that the olive tree would thrive, prosper, and fulfil the measure of its creation here in our garden. As I closed the prayer with tear-filled eyes, I felt a closeness to my Savior. It was a fitting way to begin the week preceding Easter.

As I have hauled each wheelbarrow full of gravel and placed it into the trenches that are now paths that run around and by the olive tree's planter, I realized how much that part of the garden is beginning to look like the way I have always envisioned Gethsemane looks even though I've never seen it in person. Over and over I have had the words of a song going through my head as I have worked--I Walked Today Where Jesus Walked. And today as I completed the last of the path that hides the main trench, I sat down to take a last look before the light in the spring sky faded too much for me to see. Again, the words ran through my head.

On this Friday of Easter weekend, I have also been privileged to receive some wonderful inspiration from the blogs of my blogging friends. As I have read of their devotion and faith, they have helped me to put my heart and mind in the place that it should be at this time of year. I found stirring inspiration from Helen at Brushstrokes, etc. both with her art and with her words. I was reminded of important questions to ponder and reflect upon from Holly at 2 Kids and Tired. And I found Easter hope and joy from Kate at Our Red House. I say "thank you" to each of them for what they have shared with me and others. Each of you have helped to give me the proper perspective for this lovely Easter celebration that is ahead of us.

Whether one is Christian or not, the season of spring is full of hope and renewal. Even my friends in the southern hemisphere are celebrating a time where nature is getting ready for renewal by shedding the old. Every year when spring comes, I find at least one miracle that draws my mind back to the promise of new life. This year it was a petunia that wintered over through numerous frosty nights in a little pot at the base of the birdbath. It never let go of life. It hung on and is now in bloom again. It's exuberance and tenacity have reminded me that despite the bitter times in life, if we are rooted in a good place we will weather life's winters. We will come through alright and be able to bloom again. Holly asked in her blog "Why do you believe?" and I have to say this is why I believe. Because there is no way that the miracles of my own life and the miracles of humankind's existence in general could happen unless there was a loving Creator that made it so by His powerful hand. Just as the petunia is blooming again and as Christ rose again from the tomb on the third day after being crucified, I can bloom again after each challenge in life and ultimately have the promise of "blooming" one last time to enjoy a resurrected body myself and live for eternity with those I love.