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One of the best-smelling day trips I’ve taken It was a spectacularly warm and beautiful day, so I decided to drive to Cleveland to visit Lavender Lamb Farm. The University of Georgia estimates that there are about 10 (or fewer) dedicated lavender growers in the state, with Red Oak Lavender Farm being the largest. It doesn’t compare to the state’s largest crops (cotton, peanuts, and grain corn) but it is emerging as a specialty crop. (This butterfly was nice enough to hold still briefly for a portrait) Lavender Lamb Farm covers three acres and was founded ten years ago by Susan and Herb Lamb (which is the best name ever). The farm primarily grows lavandula x intermedia (Lavandin/French hybrids), which are tailored for North Georgia’s climate. They also provide high essential oil content and are great for crafting. You can purchase potted lavender plants for $8.99 in the following varieties: Bridget Chloe (heat- and humidity-tolerant, suited for culinary uses like spice blends) Phenomenal (cold-hardy and heat-tolerant) Gros Bleu (strong fragrance and essential oil characteristics) Provence (u-pick offering The farm’s acres are spread out vertically, and bees followed me from row to row. If you like photography, there’s an antique tractor and a lavender VW bug available for creative shots as well as the plants themselves. (The aforementioned tractor, which is home to some wasps) They were offering snacks, which included the best goat cheese roll with a lavender spice mixture that is available on their website, lavender lemonade, and a charcuterie board with various meats, cheeses, and fruits. (The VW bug, also home to some bees and wasps, and great for photography) The drive to Cleveland took me through some subdivisions and farmland, and the cost is minimal: $5 for wandering through the fields and taking pictures; $15 if you want to pick some lavender to take home. Check their website for special events, such as wreath making classes. (Perfect on a warm summer day) Nearby is Vintage Attic (US 129 in Cleveland) if you want to make a day of walking and shopping. Head to Clyde's Table & Tavern for a great lunch and signature cocktails.

Have you ever noticed how easy it is to give time away now? Not spend it. Give it away. There is a difference. Spending time suggests intention. Choice. Awareness. You decided where it would go and why it mattered. But much of modern life does not ask us to spend time carefully anymore. It simply teaches us to surrender it a few minutes at a time. One more episode. One more scroll. One more video. One more click. And suddenly an entire evening is gone. Not because someone consciously decided: “I want to hand away three hours of my life tonight.” It happened quietly. Like someone floating in calm water, barely noticing that the gentle current and soft breeze are slowly carrying them farther from shore. Nothing dramatic happened. No violent wave. No storm. Just movement. Small movement. Constant movement. Unnoticed movement. And by the time they finally look up, they are nowhere near where they intended to be. That is why the counsel at Ephesians 5:15, 16 feels so serious. Paul wrote: “Keep strict watch that how you walk is not as unwise but as wise persons, making the best use of your time.” Notice — Paul connects time to wisdom. Because time is not merely something we possess. It is something we direct. Or fail to direct. And Satan’s world has become extraordinarily skilled at taking custody of human attention. Entire systems are now designed to keep people watching, scrolling, reacting, consuming, continuing. Even stopping points have disappeared. Years ago, a television program ended. A person got up. The moment broke naturally. Now entire seasons wait in a single row. Autoplay quietly asks: “Continue?” And before long, hours disappear into the glow. Not necessarily through wickedness. Through passivity. That is what makes the danger so subtle. Most people do not drift spiritually because they hate Jehovah. They drift because they slowly stop steering. The current does the rest. That may be why Colossians 3:2 feels so powerful today: “Keep your minds fixed on the things above, not on the things on the earth.” “Keep your minds fixed.” That requires effort. Correction. Intentional direction. A float in water naturally moves with the current. It takes no effort at all to drift. Remaining near shore requires awareness. Adjustment. Decision. And perhaps that is part of what spiritual maturity means now — not merely avoiding bad things, but remaining in control of where our attention, energy, and time are being carried. Because time is life in pieces. Once a day is gone, it does not return. And the frightening part is this: a person can feel busy all the time while accomplishing very little that truly refreshes the spirit. Endless entertainment can consume enormous amounts of time while giving almost nothing back except temporary stimulation. But spiritual things are different. A meaningful conversation in the ministry can strengthen the heart. Encouraging someone at the Kingdom Hall can quiet anxieties more deeply than hours of distraction ever could. Personal study can steady the mind in ways endless consumption never will. Why? Because humans were created with a spiritual need. Matthew 5:3 is not poetic exaggeration. It is reality. We cannot endlessly feed on distraction and expect to remain spiritually strong. And maybe that is why the account at Luke 10:41, 42 feels so close to modern life. Jesus told Martha: “Martha, Martha, you are anxious and disturbed about many things.” Many things. That feels familiar. Many notifications. Many demands. Many distractions. Many voices competing for attention. But Mary chose differently. Not because nothing else mattered… but because she recognized what mattered most at that moment. Perhaps one of the clearest signs of wisdom today is simply this: Refusing to allow the current to decide where our life goes. based on:https://www.jw.org/finder?srcid=jwlshare&wtlocale=E&prefer=lang&docid=2026322&par=22

They are not just names read from the platform. They are men with aging parents. With aching joints. With silent tears prayed out in the car after a shepherding call. They carry within them the congregation’s burdens — but not always the congregation’s understanding. And they need our prayers. The Governing Body bears an extraordinary weight — not just of teaching, but of protecting, adjusting, responding. Global crises, legal pressures, spiritual dangers — all of these require continual vigilance and courage. When they make decisions, they do so with trembling awareness of who they represent. “Who is adequate for these things?” Paul once asked (2 Corinthians 2:16, NWT). And yet they go on — for our sake. So do our local elders. They do not draft policy — but they must carry it out. In real time. With real people. They interpret direction through the lense of the congregation’s needs: a sudden loss, a spiritual emergency, a fragile conscience unraveling. They have to decide — now — how best to act, even when there’s no perfect answer. They don’t get weeks to deliberate. They get minutes. Sometimes, seconds. And the result may not always feel right. Sometiems it isn’t. But that’s exactly why we pray. We pray for clarity — that Jehovah help them see what we can’t. We pray for tenderness — that they not grow cold from all they carry. We pray for unity — that disagreement not become division. And we pray for humility — theirs, yes, but also ours. That we not assume what we would do better, when we’ve never had to decide. In a world that mocks spiritual authority and delights in uncovering mistakes, how precious it is when Jehovah’s people say, “We are behind you. Not because you are perfect, but because we love what you’re trying to do.” Paul said of the congregation in Corinth, “You also can help us by your supplication for us” (2 Corinthians 1:11, NWT). Yes. You also can help. So the next time we hear an announcement that doesn’t sit right, or recieve counsel that hurts more than helps, what if our first instinct was not to pull back… but to pray? What if the heaviness we feel is just a taste of what they carry? What if Jehovah allows us to see it — not so we can judge them — but so we can lift them? What if the entire congregation knelt, silently, invisibly, beside the elders… and held them up? We ask them to pray for us. Let us do the same. He sees their weariness. He sees their efforts. And he sees our prayers — covering them like a shield. He will guide. He will correct. He will strengthen.