Wednesday, March 31, 2010

Daffodils, Palms and a Poem








Palm Sunday was very pleasant and moving at our church this past Sunday.



 


Pastor Tom gave the children's message.

His message was about the freedom God has given us through Jesus.


He had all of the "grown ups" close their eyes and he asked all of the kids who thought that adults sometimes do strange things to raise their hands.

I couldn't see but my hand was raised.


On the first Palm Sunday, everyone (the adults) thought that Jesus had come to lead a revolt. That's why they were waving the symbol of Jewish independance - a palm branch. They thought that he should kick the Romans out.

He did give us freedom!

Freedom from the penalties of sin.

Total forgiveness!

That wonderful clean slate!


No more burden or death from the law that we can never ever live up to!


for generation after generation after generation after generation .... 




He just completely did not do what they expected.




Pastor Tom gave the children bundles of "palm branches" and they passed them out to everyone in the sanctuary (us adults).








"Now, the LORD is the Spirit, and where the Spirit of the LORD is, there is freedom."

2 Corinthians 3:17


 
 When everyone had a branch, my husband asked everyone to raise them up and to wave them.

I didn't take a picture because I was waving my branch.

The whole sanctuary turned into a veritable jungle rustling in the wind.

It was quite moving!


 


  

Vermont is starting to thaw out.
 



 With the open water on the pond came...


 


... Our family of Canada Geese.

We're just sure that they're ours from last year.

Immediately, though, two of them chased everyone else away.

(my camera is perfectly level, by the way; so, you can see that we really do live at the bottom of a hill.)
  

 

It is hard to express how beautiful the brown is to me.

Every day it tinges green a little more.





In mud season, after the snow is gone but before anything is visibly growing, the world seems to be laid bare. You can see everything that has been hidden under green or snow or drooping fallen foliage during the rest of the year. 


 


 The colors are very neutral and texture really rules the day.


 





 


 The brown is so beautiful and refreshing and hopeful!

It feels like spring to me!

Who cares about green formalities?

Anyway,

we have a tiny oasis of daffodils next to our house!


 

 They are like a deposited down payment of things promised and yet to come.

A little "beacon" of hope.
(so sorry! Couldn't resist!)


 


Outside 

King winter sat in his Hall one day,
And he said to himself, said he,
"I must admit I've had some fun,
I've chilled the Earth and cooled the Sun,
And not a flower or tree
But wishes that my reign were done,
And as long as Time and Tide shall run,
I'll go on making everyone
As cold as cold can be.


 


 There came a knock at the outer door:
"Who's there?" King Winter cried;
"Open your Palace Gate," said Spring
"For you can reign no more as King,
Nor longer here abide;
This message from the Sun I bring,
'The trees are green, the birds do sing;
The hills with joy are echoing':
So pray, Sir - step outside!"


Hugh Chesterman 19th Century



 



 Hooray!

A weeks worth of rain is good enough for me!
It brings the spring!


Love,

Katy Noelle xo


3 comments:

  1. Katy. This is a lovely post. I particularly enjoyed the poem about King Winter and Spring. Have a joyful, peaceful Easter.

    ReplyDelete
  2. My dear Katy Noelle-

    your thoughts are wonderful!

    I think it was a really lovely time for the children in the church!

    You really live wonderful! The daffodils decoration ist really nice! I like it! A little hope after the long wintertime- I guess- Vermont is a really good place to live!

    Happy Easter time- Angel Katy :-)

    Love -Ines

    ReplyDelete
  3. Katy,
    What beautiful pictures. The texture is awesome. As a photographer, I appreciate texture. Such a beautiful post. Love the poem.
    Love the children with the branches. Am sure they loved that. Have a Blessed Easter.
    Lynn

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