I love mixed metaphors. Any comments about too many cooks breaking a camels back, or a rolling stone catching a worm make me smile. I listen out for football commentators who talk about teams parking the bus with their backs against the wall or preachers telling me that I’m a lost sheep who can soar on eagles wings.
This morning I’m musing being a tree planted on life’s long and winding road…
In our garden… We’re enjoying apples from a tree that we planted many years ago; salvia that we planted a couple of years ago are still in flower; potatoes planted last spring are the best ever; parsnips planted in April will be ready for Christmas. Meanwhile I’m preparing for next spring – digging over beds, pruning shrubs, adding compost, making new compost from fallen leaves…
We’ve lived in our house for thirty-eight years. In life’s long and winding road we’ve planted many things in our garden…
On Thursday I attended a quiz. It’s not usually my favourite way of spending an evening, but we were raising money for a good cause. In our team Richard was good at the film questions, Kathy’s travelled a lot, so knew about geography. I happened to remember that a Balalaika is a three-stringed instrument and a quagga is a rare zebra-like mammal. Random items planted securely in the memory, from sometime in life’s past long and winding road…
Some friends’ road is rough and steep… their life’s tree is struggling to grow… up the creek without a paddle… no light at the end of the tunnel… hardly keeping their heads above water…
Yesterday at church Mark mentioned Jeremiah’s description of a tree planted by a stream. It’s deep strong roots continuing to draw water from the stream. Even in a drought the tree still bears fruit.
This morning I’m musing on my roots in the life-giving stream of my friends, family, and faith in my God, that sustain me… wherever my long and winding road takes me.
malcolmsmusings.org 