I recently visited Wilson Homestead in upstate New York. It’s a wonderful old bookstore and antique shop housed in 18th-century barns.

But it wasn’t the salvaged wood and old cookbooks I was after. I wanted to see the hundreds of daffodils that were planted over the years. It was a reminder for me in this season of Easter — 50 days that bring us to Pentecost — to not give up on my dreams of having such glory bloom here in Vermont at Old Stone Well Farm.

It was my reminder that life’s beautiful dreams can come true — with patience, hope and a lot of faith. It was my moment to embrace the truth that it is never too late to begin again.

So welcome to the farm! Pull up a chair, invite a friend, like and comment. I am especially eager to hear what your favorite plant is. Let me know in the comment section on YouTube, as I would love to include your favorite plan in the future dream gardens here at Old Stone Well Farm.

Blessings!

I really thought with a later-than-usual Easter this year that I would have a celebration filled with beautiful flowers and green leaves on the trees.

The cold weather, though, has made the daffodils slow to bloom, and the tree buds are only now shaking off their winter slumber and beginning to awaken.

At first I was disappointed by spring’s tardiness, but then today I realized what a beautiful sermon the yet-to-bloom daffodils were preaching to me.

For this is Holy Saturday, a day where we are called to ponder Christ’s death, sit with the grief, let tears of loss — no matter how fresh or stale those tears are — flow freely. We are being asked not to run so quickly to better, happier times, as our society tends to do.

There is much growth to experience in the mourning. There is something powerful in being able to patiently wait for rebirth, resurrection and renewal.

The daffodils have yet to bloom. And that’s okay. For they are whispering to me to have patience and are inviting me to simply sit with God and let God’s grace wipe away whatever tears I still need to shed.

For God hasn’t forgotten us in our times of loss, defeat or just sheer exhaustion. God is working on our new days — our Easter mornings, where the light of daybreak reveals the amazing truth we need to hold on to now and always: All is not lost. Death, destruction and doom do not win. God’s word of love for all will be the final word.

Sunday is coming…

I really thought with a later-than-usual Easter this year that I would have a celebration filled with beautiful flowers and green leaves on the trees.

The cold weather, though, has made the daffodils slow to bloom, and the tree buds are only now shaking off their winter slumber and beginning to awaken.

At first I was disappointed by spring’s tardiness, but then today I realized what a beautiful sermon the yet-to-bloom daffodils were preaching to me.

For this is Holy Saturday, a day where we are called to ponder Christ’s death, sit with the grief, let tears of loss — no matter how fresh or stale those tears are — flow freely. We are being asked not to run so quickly to better, happier times, as our society tends to do.

There is much growth to experience in the mourning. There is something powerful in being able to patiently wait for rebirth, resurrection and renewal.

The daffodils have yet to bloom. And that’s okay. For they are whispering to me to have patience and are inviting me to simply sit with God and let God’s grace wipe away whatever tears I still need to shed.

For God hasn’t forgotten us in our times of loss, defeat or just sheer exhaustion. God is working on our new days — our Easter mornings, where the light of daybreak reveals the amazing truth we need to hold on to now and always: All is not lost. Death, destruction and doom do not win. God’s word of love for all will be the final word.

Sunday is coming…

The journey to Easter’s new beginnings isn’t an easy one. It asks us to be with Jesus in his final day — to break the bread together, to go to the cross with him, to trust in the darkest of times. And on this Maundy Thursday, here at the farm we take part in an ancient ritual that isn’t very popular these days — foot washing.

For I have discovered, Easter’s new beginnings start with the basin and the towel. It is the ability to not only show love, but to receive love — no matter how hurt or rejected we feel sometimes in life — that helps our anger wash away to acceptance and for acceptance to ripple into widening circles of grace.

I pray you take time in your preparations for Easter to spend some quiet time with me here at Old Stone Well Farm. Let me know what you think…and how open are you to being vulnerable to others? Like, comment and share with others, as there’s always room here at the farm table.

Blessings!

It’s Holy Week here at Old Stone Well Farm and I wish I could share with you fields of daffodils and tulips, but we have been having some fickle weather. Warm temps make the peepers sing loudly one day and then the next an ice storm captures the limbs of my hydrangea. Just when I thought we would get a taste of spring, the snow comes.

The weather, though, reminded me of just how much I need our Savior who died for us. You see, we are just as fickle as the weather, struggling to remain steadfast in our faith that God is indeed working a miracle in our lives. So this week, which is the holiest of weeks for Christians, I am cutting the pussy willows to wave a branches on Palm Sunday, and then I am going to be walk slowly, listen carefully and still my racing mind so that I can be attentive to all the God is saying to me — and to you.

Come and join me as I prepare for Easter…there are some surprises amid the rain, ice and snow as miracles of life surprised me on my walk. How are you holding on to faith these days? How many times have you whispered to God, “Hosanna!” which means “save us”? But more importantly, do you believe that showers in life are blessings and that God is still at work on your miracle? Let me know how you are preparing for Easter’s new life?

Like, comment and share…and remember to watch till the end as Fritz would love to see you! Blessings!