Hiram and I planted a candy-striped clematis years ago, when the kids were little. But tje nearby black walnut trees grew along with the clematis. The climbing flower never did as well as we’d hoped as the spot grew shadier, so two or three years ago we moved it. For a while it didn’t do much growing, at least not that we could see. This year, however, it has bloomed copiously for almost three weeks, even though the weather’s been cool and wet.
This morning two new blossoms greeted me when I returned from my walk. Earlier, I had watched two Baltimore orioles, brilliantly marked, fuss on the fence by a cornfield. They were arguing about who got to perch where and for how long. They traded places with one another constantly, each lifting of their wings favoring me with another blazing flash of orange and black. Between the beauty of orioles, who have lived along our gravel road for only the past few years, and the clematis which waited a long time to show its true colors, I felt deeply blessed.
Tomorrow I go to Grand Rapids, Michigan for a speaking seminar. While I’m there, I’ll stay with a published author who is a good friend and mentor. She wants to introduce me to one of her publishers and several other authors. I also will visit the Discovery House Publishers office, where my book has been accepted. They’re even taking me out to dinner.
Some days I pinch myself and wonder if this trip is happening. Is my writing, which I’ve been tending for years, about to bear fruit? Is God going to say this is the year things will take off? Thanks to a couple Baltimore orioles and a candy-striped clematis, I’m prepared to wait for his answers. And whatever the answer is, I will remain deeply blessed.
