Each morning I walk among my plants, searching for new buds, trying to determine the status of plants wounded by winter’s frosts, appreciating the daffodils, pansies, and pinks. One day I see no buds; the next I find buds well advanced on branches previously bare. I watch my plants carefully, drawing pleasure from their sturdiness, worrying over their illnesses, excited over their successful blooms. I think God must sometimes feel like a gardener, walking over the face of His world. We are His plants. He worries about our survival, our failure to flourish, our setbacks, and He must celebrate with us our successful blossoming as His people. God, I pray that you will help me grow and bloom; may my life bring you glory and be a source of good for others. Amen.