I live in Colorado where we might have crocuses peeking through the snow any day in May. But we can rely on the traditions May brings to assure us that while it may not feel like May outside, it really is the month predicted to follow April showers with flowers.
One tradition that was more popular in the early 20th Century than today may deserve a second look—the May Day basket. Thought to have European roots from countries like Germany and England, in this tradition people gather baskets of flowers, small gifts, or baked goods and leave them on the doorsteps of neighbors or loved ones on May 1st to welcome spring and spread goodwill. Also on the first day of May some communities still hold May Day celebrations which include crowning a May queen and dancing around a maypole intertwining brightly colored ribbons. Maybe we should dance our way into May!
Cinco de Mayo also lets us know it’s May even if the weather outside doesn’t seem to agree. A Mexican holiday, it’s widely celebrated in the United States, especially in states like ours with large Mexican-American populations. Sometimes celebrated with parades and parties, the date commemorates the Mexican Army’s victory over the French at the Battle of Puebla on May 5, 1862. It’s a meaningful holiday for many, and a wonderful excuse for everyone to enjoy some tacos and enchiladas.
Of course Mother’s Day is always the second Sunday of May, falling on May 12th this year. This celebration originated in the early 1900’s as a result of the efforts of Anna Jarvis of Philadelphia, PA. After her mother’s death in 1905, she proposed Mother’s Day as a way of honoring all mothers everywhere. President Woodrow Wilson signed a bill to formalize the holiday on May 8, 1914. While it’s reported that Anna was later dismayed by the growing commercialization of the holiday, surely the cards, gifts, and brunches we enjoy today only enhance our efforts to honor mothers.
You know it’s May when you have graduation invitations in the mail or dates to attend ceremonies circled on your calendar. This year we have a grandson graduating from high school and look forward to the pomp and circumstance—and the party!
The month closes out with Memorial Day, observed the last Monday of May and preceded by the weekend that traditionally marks the beginning of summer. But as children are joyfully released from school and the burgers hit the grill, let’s not forget that the meaning of Memorial Day is the solemn remembrance of those men and women who died while serving in the U.S. military. So whether you’re in flip-flops or snow boots, attend the parade, fly the flag, and close out the month of May with gratitude for this country and all those who fought to protect it.
Do you know the Legend of the Dogwood? It’s just that. A legend. But it does add an element of spiritual significance to our enjoyment of one of the most beautiful trees of spring.
The legend says Jesus recognized the tree’s distress and to ensure it would never be used in such a cruel way again, decreed that from that day forward dogwood trees would be small and slender, often with a twisted trunk.
If you’ve ever looked closely at a dogwood blossom, you know there are four petals forming the shape of the cross. The marks in the center of each flower resemble nail holes. The edge of each petal has a darker tinge, symbolizing the blood shed by Jesus when He died on the cross for our sins. I love that part of the legend, so I think of it whenever I see a dogwood blossom. I add gratitude for my salvation to my enjoyment of the blossom’s natural beauty.
This year I was blessed to arrive in my hometown of Knoxville, Tennessee, just as the dogwood trees were at their peak. My sisters and I traversed as many of the designated “dogwood trails” in town as we could. I was always on the lookout for pink and white dogwoods adjacent to one another because I love the contrast. If a blazing azalea bush was nearby, so much the better!
Friends, it’s Friday, but Sunday’s comin’! Many of you may have heard this classic sermon from Dr. S. M. (Shadrach Meshach) Lockridge (March 7, 1913–April 4, 2000), but there’s no better time to listen to it again. He was the Pastor of Calvary Baptist Church, a prominent African-American congregation in San Diego, CA. Read his powerful words below, then search for “My King” by him on YouTube to hear his awesome, Spirit-filled delivery of this and other sermons.
He’s the highest personality in philosophy. He’s the fundamental doctrine of true theology. He’s the only one qualified to be an all sufficient Saviour.
His life is matchless. His goodness is limitless. His mercy is everlasting. His love never changes. His Word is enough. His grace is sufficient. His reign is righteous. And His yoke is easy. And His burden is light.
Just over twenty-four years ago we were all in a panic over what might happen when the clock struck midnight on December 31, 1999, and we plummeted into a new millennium. Yes, it was two dozen years ago that we were told to store up gallons of water and batteries before January 2000, and everyone everywhere was talking about all the bad things that might happen in Y2K. Guess what? The clock struck 12:01 AM and nothing significant changed.
(Dear Subscribers: Due to a glitch with my website host, many of you weren’t able to open this yesterday. If you already received it, please know I’m doubly grateful!) I grew up in a personal land of plenty. My sisters and I had a mom who tied the sashes on the back of our dresses, took us shopping for new school shoes and handed us a piece of crisp bacon folded in warm buttered toast as we went out the door to school. Our dad was a patriot to the bone. He loved the law and the Lord and always insisted on taking our photo near every American flag we saw when we went on vacation. We ate fresh tomatoes, green beans, corn and strawberries from our garden, and could hop on our horse and go for a ride on a whim. A land of plenty.
These days it’s easy for me to look at all that’s happening in our culture, our country, and the world, and become discouraged. Although I’ll never stop trying to make a difference where I can, the injustices and depravities run so deep that I’ve shifted from being a passionate patriot to a curious observer—wondering why God is allowing all that He is and what He intends to do through it all. But I trust Him. And though my concerns run deep, my gratitude runs deeper.
One morning as I was reading Jeremiah 31:35—He who appoints the sun to shine by day…the Lord Almighty is his name—I glanced up to see a glorious sunrise. Our orange cat was snoozing on my lap, trusting me with her presence. Deeply grateful.