Oregon Spring in Washington

I realize that the rest of the country has been busy keeping up with their tomato harvest. I read about stewing and saucing, canning and freezing. They brag (maybe they are not bragging) about neighbors who run and hide when they come with yet another paper sack of beautiful red tomatoes.

Green has been the dominant color in the tomato patch this cold, wet, western Washington season. The peas held on to the end of July, Lettuce keeps giving and giving, and I have learned to love garden greens, but the tomatoes that grace my meals come from Trader Joe's. The cucumbers had to be replanted three times before they were able to do anything but rot in the ground. Even now, the vines that I celebrate are not doing much, if there is a home-grown cucumber before the end of the season I will be delighted. But pickles? Forget about it.

Just this morning I was talking myself into being content with just the pretty pink sunrise, the kind that seems to foretell a storm. My country is not at war, my children are not starving and my husband still proclaims his love for me. I am blessed beyond what most of the world is able to grasp yet I easily take it for granted and start to fuss about how God is maybe too busy to remember me. Peh-shaw (as Leah used to say). After a moment of praise in the pink light of the sunrise the words of Lamentations 3:22-23 began to roll through my head. The steadfast love of The LORD never ceases, His mercies never come to an end. That is how I learned it. Here it is from the Complete Jewish Bible.

But in my mind I keep returning to something,

something that gives me hope -

that the grace of ADONAI is not exhausted,

that his compassion has not ended.

[On the contrary,] they are new every morning!

How great your faithfulness!

All this from a tomato that is just beginning to blush.


Thursday, August 5; Thunderstorms could roll through this morning but the afternoon should be hot (by PNW standards) reaching the upper 70's to mid 80's. Still muggy out.