Now I know why my grandmother--GG--said her favorite flowering bush was a crape myrtle. A master gardener, she knew how to take little ornamental trees, bushes and shrubs and make them blossom in her yard.
Her words about crape myrtles have never left my memory. "They stay in bloom the longest," was the reason she gave me decades ago.
Wonder if she knew too how they endured the heat, the drought. Here they are today in our yard and many yards around the city. You wouldn't know the hardship they face day after day this summer. The burning sun upon their leaves and flowering buds with no relief. They smile anyway. No sign of brown on the foliage, no wilting greenery, no halt to the blooming--no complaining.
If only I could be that way. When the burning heat of purification comes, when the trials of a season are prolonged, when thirsty for life-giving water and it seems sparse, may I bloom anyway.
When the temperatures soar within the atmosphere and within the dome of my soul, and the heat index rises to unbearable degrees, may I be sustained in giving glory to One who designed it all.
Just looking at their red, purple and pink blossoms brings a sense of relief and promise of a future full of hope. Jer 29: 11