The Lily in the Valley

Lily of the Valley

Hidden Lilies

The rake clears away fall leaves and winter twigs, leaving fresh white blossoms peeking out from under newly grown leaves.  It is spring, and I am surprised again when I discover Lily of the Valley blooming in my flower bed.

After all these years, you’d think I’d remember these flowers. Somehow I never do. By the time winter is over, another year has come and gone since these flowers last bloomed. In those twelve months, the flower bed has become encroached with piles of fallen leaves and broken twigs.  In those twelve months, I forget.

Until, that is, the rake peels back winter’s debris and uncovers what has been hidden – but blooming nevertheless – under forgotten dreck.  Underneath winter brambles and broken twigs, underneath worn, weary sod, there is hope, for there is life.

Blooming Again

Every spring when I clean my flower beds and find those petals, I remember. Every spring, when I unearth those flowers, I remember a scripture: “I am the rose of Sharon, and the lily of the valleys.” [Song of Solomon 2:1].

And every spring, when I find the Lily of the Valley, I remember a song: I Found the Lily in My Valley.

The Song

There’s a story behind this song, and you can read it in its entirety here.

Quinton Mills, the author, is a Native American Indian and a member of the Haliwa-Saponi Tribe located in Hollister, NC.  He accepted the Lord Jesus Christ in 1972 after many years of addiction to alcohol, drugs, and rock music.  This gospel song was written on February 12, 1986 in Clinton, South Carolina.

After a service in which he preached, there was an altar call.  A lady came forward asking for prayer.  Another minister who was assisting Rev. Mills  told the lady, “Sister, I don’t care what kind of valley you’re going through; Jesus will be your Lily in that valley.”

Quinton Mills went back to where he was staying and felt the Lord nudge his spirit as thoughts flooded his mind. He prayed, “Lord, I know that you spoke to me tonight in a special way and I will not go to sleep until You give me what I felt so special.” In a couple of hours, he had written I Found the Lily in My Valley.

Lily of the valley 3

I Found the Lily in the Valley

By Quinton Mills

All alone and broken hearted, trying to calm the raging battle in my mind,

In search of many answers that my troubled soul just could not seem to find

I saw a flower blooming where there was no rain or sunshine,

And I  knew that this flower would change the rest of my life.


I found the lily in my valley, I found strength when I was worn;

I found a place to leave my burdens, I found refuge from the storm;

A place where I traded my dark skies for beaming rays of sunshine,

I found a Lily in my valley, and He blooms all the time.


So if you’re down and broken hearted and you just can’t seem to find peace of mind,

You’re searching for your answers, but your problems are getting worse all the time.

Just reach your hand to Jesus,

He’ll take you in and break the ties that bind.

He’ll be your Lily in your valley

And you can watch Him bloom all the time.


He’ll be your Lily in your valley;

He’ll be your strength when you are worn.

He’ll be a place to leave your burdens;

He’ll give you refuge from the storm.

A place where you trade your dark skies for beaming rays of sunshine,

He’ll be your Lily in your valley

And He’ll bloom all the time!

Lily of the valley 2

Listen to the song

To hear Quinton Mills sing this song, you can listen here or here. If the links do not work, you can listen to Brian Haney sing it here. And, as you listen, allow Him to be your Lily in whatever valley you are facing today.  Allow Him to be your refuge; allow His fragrance to permeate your soul.

Pinterest Lily in the Valley


A Calf is Born. Will it Live – or Die?

There’s a new calf at our place.

She is the second calf born in the past ten days.


The first one weighed about fifty pounds, and she’s a combination of brown and black. Her name is Stormy because she was born during those days and nights of torrential rain when schools were closed for three days because of flooding.

The one born this week is larger and she is red. She’s a beauty, all right. We haven’t named her. I thought she looked like a Fritzlie (yes, it’s spelled right, and unless you know Pennsylvania Dutch, you won’t get the name), but now I’m thinking Flopsy might be a better name. There are a few more calves to be born, so there’s always a chance for a Mopsy.

The only problem is, her mama is the heifer-now-cow that Dave calls Wild One. Only now she’s the Wild Mama. She’s not acting much like a mama. She did a few things right. First off, she licked the calf clean and dry. That’s important, you know. The calf was up and walking in a short time, so Dave assumed all was well.

The next day, the calf was down – lying in the middle of sunny buttercup flowers, ears lying back, and listless. Dave came in from work to take care of the calf. A bottle of colostrum was fed via a nipple bottle and the calf remained there amid the buttercups.

Learning to suck on the nipple.

Nine hours later, she was up and running with the other calf in the pasture. Wild Mama seemed to take more of an interest and they could be seen together around the pasture. We hoped they were bonding. Yet, Dave couldn’t get close enough to Wild Mama to see if she had been nursed. Twice in the first twelve hours, Wild Mama charged him. That’s a sign of a good mama, you know. Good mamas are protective of their offspring and this mama wasn’t about to let him get too close.

So why did she leave her calf lying alone at the far end of the pasture? Why go off by herself for hours at a time? This Wild Mama is more than wild. She’s a wild puzzle. Or you could call her a wild card. Even the farmer who delivered her to our place asked me just the other day if we still had “that wild thang at your place.” She’s a puzzle, that’s for sure.

Nuzzling her baby

We’re still waiting to see what’s going to happen with this one. I am sad, for springtime is a time of new life, new growth, and new birth. Birds are building nests and eggs are hatching. Flowers and trees are blooming. Gardens are beginning to provide fresh produce.

I want this calf to survive and to thrive.

I want this mama to be the “mama she ought to be”. Will it happen? Time will tell.

We’ve prayed over this calf and we don’t mind at all if you pray, too.

Pinterest Calf is Born