Cynthia L. Eppley 08/25/2021
Heat & Humidity
When I walked out this morning the first thing that assaulted my senses was the sweltering heat.
How can it be so hot so early in the morning?
Aren’t the evenings supposed to cool down?
Aren’t we to awaken to a refreshing new day?
And then there is the humidity.
Last week the entire country was blanketed in a weather map of red:
Heat and humidity.
Even areas that don’t normally see outrageous heat were wrapped in its’ clutches. A simple walk with our dog brings rivulets of perspiration down my back.
The unrelenting heat.
Rainy days are rare, and even then it seems to run off the dry, compacted earth. Following the rain, the humidity rises.
I try to water my plants regularly.
And if the heat is not enough, it’s the cicadas.
Apparently they come out of their dark, dank tombs every 17 years.
And this year brought a bumper crop.
Are they there all day?
Somehow they seem more present in the early morning.
It seems that all else is pressed out as their din attacks my ears.
The (relatively) cool, quiet morning is broken by the temperature and the noise. Is there no peace?
Is there no rest for the weary?
And then there is my garden. (See Of Daffodils and Spring, Flowers and Their Legacy)
It flourishes in April and May, reaching a glorious peak in June. People purposely walk by to see it.
Cars stop and drivers call out: “I love your garden!”
I do, too…..in Spring.
For those who know my garden, hosta is a key component.
My initial hosta was brought from NJ from my brother’s home. Since that time it has been separated and split and it has gone all over my yard and into the neighborhood.
They call our home: “The Hosta House.”
But these days the hosta is looked bedraggled and worn.
Yellowed leaves hang on, and no amount of watering can save them.
Even my best efforts are only a stopgap for the inevitable.
And what is the inevitable?
The passage of time, the weariness of summer, followed by Fall.
With Fall comes the death of the glorious plants that regaled us with their beauty only weeks ago.
The tasks of cleaning away the debris of once glorious plants lies before me.
Spent flowers droop and yellowed leaves await composting.
We remember that it is certain that Spring will follow Winter.
The Fall will follow the heat of summer.
And as I brush aside the dead plants, I know for certain:
there is a root under the plants that grows deep and sure and strong.
Outward appearances are not all we see; the spring and summer have served to strengthen roots that have spread to sustain the foliage.
Remember Old Hymns
Sometimes older hymns bring great truth.
The hymn: “Beneath the Cross of Jesus” is one such song:
“Beneath the cross of Jesus I fain would take my stand, The shadow of a mighty rock Within a weary land; A home within the wilderness,
A rest upon the way,
From the burning of the noontide heat, and the burden of the day.”
We can take refuge in the Mighty Rock which is Jesus. He is our home, and our refuge.
Remember His Faithfulness
Let us acknowledge the Lord; let us press on to acknowledge him. As surely as the sun rises, he will appear; he will come to us like the winter rains, like the spring rains that water the earth.
Be glad, people of Zion, rejoice in the Lord your God, for he has given you the autumn rains because he is faithful. He sends you abundant showers, both autumn and spring rains, as before.
Remember He Makes a Way
See, I am doing a new thing! Now it springs up; do you not perceive it? I am making a way in the wilderness and streams in the wasteland.
Remember Spring will follow Winter
He makes a way in the wilderness, in a dry and thirsty land.
He is faithful. He is our home.
And though the garden appears dead now, the roots grow deep. Winter will come and blanket the garden in soft snow.
But Spring will come.
And as I face yet another hot and humid day, though the outward appearance looks dry and arid, I trust in His goodness and faithfulness to grow roots deep and strong.