It may be South Carolina's state flower, but we sure have a lot of it in North Florida. I had seen those bountiful yellow blooms for years every winter so when we decided to make a large vine trellis, I wanted those, along with Confederate Jasmine, and Purple Painted Trumpets. We have blooms now from January through June.
But the jessamine also grows wild across the fence and down in the wooded section of the property along the drive. Cascades of sweet-smelling yellow trumpet flowers hanging from tree limbs, crawling over brush, and dripping over fence lines dot our place with color for weeks. Even if I have not noticed them yet, high in the treetops, as I walk Chloe around the path I always know when to look up. Those yellow flowers fall and litter the ground below, still bright yellow, still fresh and unwilted. You can always tell where they are, or, after the blooming stops, where they have been. Isn't that the way it should be with a follower of Christ?
I have read from several different sources, that Christians in the first century always gave themselves away. No one else was kind to strangers. No one else took care of the sick and needy. No one else treated their enemies with thoughtfulness and consideration, even when it cost them their lives.
We may not be in such dire straits—yet—but how many of the people you come in contact with during the day would shake their heads in amazement at the kindness you showed them—a perfect stranger, perhaps even a stranger who had caused them some trouble? If they had to give a description of you for some reason, what would they say? How many people would consider themselves better off for having known you? How many would say, "My world is a better place for you having been in it?"
Like the jessamine, people should be able to look around on the ground and know we have been somewhere nearby. The ground should be covered with the aftereffects of our good works, as bright as those yellow blossoms, as obvious to everyone who passes by.
The tongue of the righteous is choice silver; the heart of the wicked is of little worth. The lips of the righteous feed many, but fools die for lack of sense.The blessing of the LORD makes rich, and he adds no sorrow with it. Doing wrong is like a joke to a fool, but wisdom is pleasure to a man of understanding. What the wicked dreads will come upon him, but the desire of the righteous will be granted. When the tempest passes, the wicked is no more, but the righteous is established forever. Prov 10:20-25
Dene Ward
But the jessamine also grows wild across the fence and down in the wooded section of the property along the drive. Cascades of sweet-smelling yellow trumpet flowers hanging from tree limbs, crawling over brush, and dripping over fence lines dot our place with color for weeks. Even if I have not noticed them yet, high in the treetops, as I walk Chloe around the path I always know when to look up. Those yellow flowers fall and litter the ground below, still bright yellow, still fresh and unwilted. You can always tell where they are, or, after the blooming stops, where they have been. Isn't that the way it should be with a follower of Christ?
I have read from several different sources, that Christians in the first century always gave themselves away. No one else was kind to strangers. No one else took care of the sick and needy. No one else treated their enemies with thoughtfulness and consideration, even when it cost them their lives.
We may not be in such dire straits—yet—but how many of the people you come in contact with during the day would shake their heads in amazement at the kindness you showed them—a perfect stranger, perhaps even a stranger who had caused them some trouble? If they had to give a description of you for some reason, what would they say? How many people would consider themselves better off for having known you? How many would say, "My world is a better place for you having been in it?"
Like the jessamine, people should be able to look around on the ground and know we have been somewhere nearby. The ground should be covered with the aftereffects of our good works, as bright as those yellow blossoms, as obvious to everyone who passes by.
The tongue of the righteous is choice silver; the heart of the wicked is of little worth. The lips of the righteous feed many, but fools die for lack of sense.The blessing of the LORD makes rich, and he adds no sorrow with it. Doing wrong is like a joke to a fool, but wisdom is pleasure to a man of understanding. What the wicked dreads will come upon him, but the desire of the righteous will be granted. When the tempest passes, the wicked is no more, but the righteous is established forever. Prov 10:20-25
Dene Ward
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