Daffodils and a Cross
On a hill far away stood an old rugged cross
The emblem of suffering and shame
And I love that old cross where the dearest & best
For a world of lost sinners was slain
The Old Rugged Cross- George Bennard (1913)
Every spring, my grandma's daffodils bloom on the north side of the hill near our driveway. I think this batch has been there for about 20 years. (I say "this batch" because the squirrels ran away with her bulbs the first few years she tried!) They are a beautiful sign of spring and they spread a little each year. And what a reminder of the way my grandma Olajeane gave "God the glory!"
Last year, my dad built a big cross out of old railroad ties. The cross stands at the edge of the woods, on top of the hill, just past the daffodils. Now that the cross is there, it seems to feel a little more complete.
I know my grandma meant for the flowers to be a reminder of God's goodness. And now because of the faith of my grandma and my dad, there can be no question; these are a reminder of Jesus, and all he gave for us at the cross.
To bring it back around, last week in Sunday school, the girls sang "The Old Rugged Cross." A few days later, Sylvia and I drove the gator out through the woods and on seeing the cross she asked "Is that our old rugged cross like Jesus?" The seeds, or bulbs, we plant today are going to guide the coming generations. What a blessing to recognize some of this in the moment!
Grandma's daffodils by the cross, April 2023.
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