The Miracle on Madison Street
Buttercups and I never got along very well. I believe it began when I
was a young lad and my mother would scold me for mowing down her
springtime clusters. Every year I would declare war on her precious
yellow clods.
Through my seasoned years I have grown to appreciate the beauty,
timing, and presentation of this seasonal bloomer. Winter has been a
chilly one this year with more snow than years combined. For a cold
weather lover I have caught myself looking forward to spring.
Driving down Madison St. in Clarksville, TN. you discover a
breathtaking sight every March. A hillside of literally hundreds of
thousands of buttercups. They are planted in perfect parallel rows one
after another. Yellow flags exploding on a still wintry gray landscape.
I don't know who the keeper is but great care goes into the
preparations of that hillside. Each spring all the leaves and limbs
are removed and the landscape is groomed. When the bulds explode the
colors are stunning.
It's like God and the groundskeeper present a springtime gift to the
passer byes. Without being earned or asked, the gift is freely given.
It's possible to miss it. Many of Gods gifts go unnoticed but He
continues to give. The unseen keeper knows that someone sees. And for
that reason he labors.
Lord make us instruments of joy and blessings to those around us. May
we seek not to be seen but that you be seen. Make us as keepers of
your unspeakable gift and may our labor be not in vain.
JMT
was a young lad and my mother would scold me for mowing down her
springtime clusters. Every year I would declare war on her precious
yellow clods.
Through my seasoned years I have grown to appreciate the beauty,
timing, and presentation of this seasonal bloomer. Winter has been a
chilly one this year with more snow than years combined. For a cold
weather lover I have caught myself looking forward to spring.
Driving down Madison St. in Clarksville, TN. you discover a
breathtaking sight every March. A hillside of literally hundreds of
thousands of buttercups. They are planted in perfect parallel rows one
after another. Yellow flags exploding on a still wintry gray landscape.
I don't know who the keeper is but great care goes into the
preparations of that hillside. Each spring all the leaves and limbs
are removed and the landscape is groomed. When the bulds explode the
colors are stunning.
It's like God and the groundskeeper present a springtime gift to the
passer byes. Without being earned or asked, the gift is freely given.
It's possible to miss it. Many of Gods gifts go unnoticed but He
continues to give. The unseen keeper knows that someone sees. And for
that reason he labors.
Lord make us instruments of joy and blessings to those around us. May
we seek not to be seen but that you be seen. Make us as keepers of
your unspeakable gift and may our labor be not in vain.
JMT
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