Guest Post by Heather Fignar

I felt the dips and curves of the road with the core of my body – the familiarity of driving through my rural New England town. Max A/C cooled me, counteracting warmth from the open roof on a languishing afternoon.

The greens were deep, hanging on in this September heat and refusing to give way to the kaleidoscope of autumn color. I was relaxed by the lingering smell of puppy breath and treats from that days' work with a service-dog nonprofit.

Several turns from home, bright colors caught my eye. Just beyond the hedge, there was something different, but I couldn't quite understand what I was seeing.

Maybe it was the unseasonal heat or the puppy endorphins. Maybe it was a subtle prompt from the divine. Instinctively, I took a left onto the nearest side street to investigate. And as I rounded the turn, I was greeted by a garden of open umbrellas. Dozens of shapes and colors, the umbrellas stood watch over rows of tall flowers.

“BARBARA!” he yelled so loudly, I jumped. I had pulled over to further observe this scene, and an elderly gentleman approached me. I asked him about the flowers and umbrellas. His response was to face the house and yell for his bride through the open windows. His belt held up his old khaki green, chino-style pants and he was stooped as he walked.

 Barbara made her way through the yard toward us in her housecoat, dyed hair, and full face of makeup. Her gait was slow, but steady and even. She greeted me with a hearty handshake and unmistakable accent.

 “Why darling, they're dahlias. We are entered into THE show on Long Island and this heat will fade the blooms beforehand if we don't protect them.” She drew out the vowels of dahlias and long island in a matter-of-fact answer that is so characteristic of folks in those parts.

They went on to tell me their stories – married more than 60 years, both of them in their 80's, lovers of each other and dahlias and the cooling September weather that usually allowed for perfect blooms.

But this year was different. It was too sunny and hot so they had scrounged up a bouquet of umbrellas and attached them to poles – old rake handles, re-bar, anything that would provide height and support for the umbrellas. It was clearly a labor of love to provide shade for those glorious, unique blooms.

Many a day since, I've remembered their mammoth effort to provide shade and protect precious blooms from harm. I think of the care and work Barbara and her husband put into protecting their blooms from the sun and how the psalmist spoke of the Lord's protection of us:

The Lord watches over you—

the Lord is your shade at your right hand;

the sun will not harm you by day,

nor the moon by night. (Psalm 121:5-6)

Recently, in the Reframing Rain Facebook group, someone posted this quote, "Step under the umbrella of the Father's mercy and take shelter there." Sometimes we shelter under divine protection from the storms of life, but Barbara's sun-brellas remind me that the Lord's protection is all-encompassing. In a world that deems rainy days as a bummer and sunny days as perfection, we often desire his protection from the rain, but don't realize that he also shields us from too much good if we'll let him. He promises to provide shade when the glare of life is too bright, or the heat is ready to overtake us.

Maybe you need refuge from a storm. Maybe you need a bit of rest out of the intense heat under his sun-brella. There is an open invitation to stand close to Jesus and allow him to provide whatever protection you need.

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Heather Fignar is a crucial part of what happens behind the scenes at Reframing Rain. She serves as a sounding board, provides technical support, and encourages me in countless ways. She is the friend you can trust to always speak the truth. I’m thankful Heather stepped out from behind the scenes to share a day that reframed umbrellas to sun-brellas.
You can read more of her writing at Heather Fignar Worthy Words & Work.