Hello God. It's me, Mara

You know, Lord, this happened long ago, but it’s still fun to remember it was a lovely season way back then, perfect for picking berries. Oh yes, mosquitoes were humming, trying to find skin. The sun played peek-a-boo with the fluffy clouds as the clouds slowly sailed on by. And oh, that gentle summer breeze was welcome.  How fun to pick plump, juicy berries near the tops of the bushes; it’s much easier on a person’s back. Near the season’s end, berries aren’t plentiful but there were enough for sampling as the bucket bottom was slowly being covered.

Then the gentle breeze switched directions and in the neighboring garden this was overheard: “… and then Aunt Nan, dja-no what we do? We stop; we think – and then we plant marigolds!” followed by a merry laugh from the little farmer boy.

Aunt Nan hadn’t commented, so the wee voice continued, “My dad likes marigolds. He picked one of the very biggest ones. I saw him measure it and it was 33 inches across!

That got Aunt Nan’s attention. “Now, Teddy, don’t you think you’re stretching that just a little bit?”

“No, Aunt Nan, that’s what my daddy said.”

Is there a lesson here for us, Lord? We are to “Stop — Think — Plant Marigolds,” and “That’s what my daddy said?”

We read in Psalm 46:10: “Be still, and know that I am God.”  “Be still” — we are to stop; “… and know …” — we are to think; “… that I am God,” — would be, that’s what my daddy says.

The marigolds would be a lovely added touch — or we could pray.

We need the faith of a little child to enter the kingdom of heaven. There’s no God like my God. Thank You, Lord, for lessons even in the raspberry patch.

Love, Mara