Bogonias
These are Bogonias that weathered over the winter. 

DEVOTION

Psalm 139:13-14 (NIV)

“For you created my inmost being;
You knit me together in my mother’s womb.
I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made.”

This past week I have been reminded in different ways that we are creative to live life to the fullest. In fact, one of the great wonders of God’s creation is that life longs for life.

These Bogota bulbs, Nancy digs up every fall, and then plants in the spring, reminded me that God placed deep within creation a desire to grow, to rise, to reach. Even when conditions are not ideal, something within them still strains toward life. The stems are pale because they have not yet seen the sun, yet they still move upward as though they know light exists.

How many times in life have we felt buried under darkness, grief, exhaustion, disappointment, confusion, or waiting? There are seasons where we feel stored away in the basement of life itself. Hidden. Quiet. Unnoticed. Yet somehow, by the grace of God, something inside us still reaches. Prayer still rises. Hope still flickers. Love still breathes. Faith still stretches toward the light.

I have found that creation constantly reveals the fingerprints of God. Jesus Himself pointed people toward seeds, vineyards, birds, lilies, storms, fish, and fig trees because the natural world is filled with the language of Heaven. I see this out my office window every morning and these little bulbs are no different. They remind us that God designed creation not merely to survive, but to seek life.

And perhaps the most beautiful part of this picture is this: these shoots are not fully what they will become yet. They look fragile now. Pale. Twisted. Incomplete. But place them into the warmth of the sun, into good soil, under the touch of care, and something beautiful will emerge.

So it is with us. God is not finished with His creation. Not with the world. Not with the church. Not with you. Our God is an awesome God.

PRAYER

Almighty and Holy God, as this Sunday morning begins, we pause before You with thankful hearts. Thank You for another sunrise, another breath, another opportunity to walk through this life with You. Thank You for the beauty of Your creation that constantly surrounds us and quietly teaches us. Even in small things — bulbs hidden away in darkness still reaching upward — we are reminded that Your fingerprints are everywhere.

Lord, there are moments when we feel buried beneath the weight of life, hidden in weariness, grief, uncertainty, pain, or fear. Yet somehow Your Spirit keeps stirring life within us. Hope still rises. Faith still reaches. Love still breathes. Thank You for never abandoning the work of Your hands.

This morning we pray for all who are struggling quietly. For those carrying physical pain, emotional exhaustion, difficult decisions, loneliness, grief, anxiety, or uncertainty about the road ahead. Surround them with Your presence and remind them they are never forgotten. We pray for the EOCC family. Continue to bind us together in compassion, kindness, patience, and love. Help us to be a church that reflects Christ not only in worship, but in the way we carry one another through life.

Lord, we pray for our nation, for our leaders, world leaders, and our President. Grant wisdom where there is confusion, humility where there is pride, compassion where there is division, and courage where truth and grace are both needed. Teach us all to walk more fully in the ways of the Shepherd.

We pray for those traveling on this busy weekend, for families gathering together, for those sitting quietly in homes missing loved ones, and for those who will walk into church today carrying burdens no one else can see. Meet each person exactly where they are.

And Father, thank You for the simple reminder that life still reaches for light. May we do the same today. Keep turning our hearts toward Christ, the Light of the world. We ask all these things in the name of Jesus, our Savior and our Hope. Amen.