I set to work yesterday, determined to finish the taxes. I sorted through every bag of papers I brought to the farm with me, only to come up two papers short. By the time I discovered this, it was mid-afternoon so I texted Mr. FixIt. He was due to arrive in a few hours.

“Change of plans.” I texted. “I’m coming home.”

He is a patient and flexible man, thank goodness.

I did a quick walkabout and caught some pictures of the flowers at the farm before I packed up the important stuff and headed to The Ponderosa. As I drove through the countryside, I marveled at the earth waking up all around me. I came around a bend and the pasture near an old, broken down farmhouse was dotted with daffodils. Great splashes of yellow spread out before me and I smiled. Someone…long ago…planted all these little bulbs in this field. I knew. There was once a woman who coveted spring as much as me. I could imagine her living in what may have seemed a hovel…or perhaps, a castle to her. She worked hard to keep her family fed and her farm in order. Maybe she bought a bag of little daffodil bulbs at the feed store with her egg money…an impulse purchase meant to bring joy in the springs to come. And, long after she was dead and gone, I swung around that bend in the road and thought of the nameless, faceless woman with a love for all things fresh and new.

I whispered my thanks to her and drove on. ❤

““Consider how the wild flowers grow. They do not labor or spin. Yet I tell you, not even Solomon in all his splendor was dressed like one of these. If that is how God clothes the grass of the field, which is here today, and tomorrow is thrown into the fire, how much more will he clothe you—you of little faith! And do not set your heart on what you will eat or drink; do not worry about it. For the pagan world runs after all such things, and your Father knows that you need them. But seek his kingdom, and these things will be given to you as well.”
‭‭Luke‬ ‭12:27-31‬ ‭NIV‬‬