There's a good sermon in eating an ice cream drumstick while driving on country roads in search of sweet rocket wildflowers. Wild purple sweet rocket blooms here in Kansas along creek beds and tucked in the shade of trees. It spreads where it's happy and can blanket whole creek beds or cottage gardens. You can smell the deep floral aroma driving by with the windows down.

It's like the blossoms preach. Fragrant purple preachers exalting the glory of God. Rising up out of the rains to remind us to stop and see the wonders and the beauty of God's creation. To pause, to see, to smell. To be in relationship with the Creator.

Imagine, God creates a seed, plants it, and makes it grow with the help of his rain and his light. He is with the wildflower and he is with each of us. I can go to him in prayer and simply talk to him. And you can do the same. He is everywhere. He is.

Then there's the wonderful transition between the last fading spring sweet rockets and the first lightning bugs of summer speckling the woods across the street from my front porch. I like to sit out on the front step as the evening light fades and watch for sparks of light. They begin across the street, in the woods. Then come closer. Sometimes right up to the porch. The neighbors' little granddaughter calls them "bug lights". That's perfect.

Sometimes my mom sits with me on the front step and we watch bug lights together. She said I ought to write about them because we are to be Jesus's lights. And I like that idea of being bug lights for Jesus. Not in the unpleasant mosquito bug like way. In the way of a gently floating light giving the serenity of pause, the serenity of being with God.

I admit I'm not sure how to do that, how to be a bug light for Jesus. I also admit it sounds weird. That's okay. We strive. That is what we do each day. We get into the Word and its truth glows. And we embrace being weird in order to share the peace of flowers and light. The peace of Jesus.