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Fire Ants in the Rose Garden

Sep12

IMG_2441I love roses. Not the artificially perfumed hothouse roses you find in the florist shops; the honest-to-goodness home-grown kind I find in my own garden. One thing I don’t love is the weeds. And the fire ants. Welcome to Florida.

The other day I was dead-heading my roses—a necessity if you want to keep blooms on them all year long—happily trimming along, enjoying the beauty and the fragrance when OUCH! I felt a sharp stinging on my foot. What the . . .! For something 1 millionth my size, that little fire ant sure packs a punch, especially if he’s invited several of his pals over to join him.

I’m not allergic to fire ant bites, thank the Lord, but I have a friend whose son is. When he inadvertently stepped on a hill, he nearly had to go to the hospital. Some quick administration of Benadryl averted a disaster.

But the itching and pain can still cause a lot of discomfort, even for the non-allergic. But mostly, I just hate the fact that my beautiful garden is a haven for the heartless beasts.

But isn’t that just like life?

You’re going along nicely, appreciating the beauty around you, being thankful for the beautiful creation, happy with your friends and family. Suddenly WHAM! something hits you broadside. Maybe a child suddenly becomes sick. Maybe a parent passes away. Maybe a pipe bursts in your house and causes a major flood.

Like those little fire ants in my rose bed, the sorrows and pains and grief of this world can distract me from the beauty. But my roses are still beautiful and fragrant.

And God is still good.

Just watch where you’re stepping.

A Fork In The Road

Jul5

IMG_3296I try to ride my bike every day during summer break. Recently, whenever I ride it seems that I come upon a fork in the road. Literally. The one pictured here happened to be a real metal one, but most of the time they’re plastic. After about the third one, David said to me, “Do you think God’s trying to tell you something?”

No.

At least I don’t think so.

But the fact is, we come upon forks in the road all the time in life. Sometimes they’re big forks: Should I take this job or that job? Should I marry this person or not? Should I move? Which church should I attend? What should I major in? Which college should I go to? Should I even go to college?

But sometimes, those forks can be small, like the little plastic ones I come upon on my rides. But they can be significant nonetheless: Should I choose to say the kind word or lash out at my spouse/sibling/friend? Shall I let bitterness take root over some perceived injustice in my life? Should I help this homeless person holding the sign on the side of the road?

None of these are necessarily going to change the course of our life, but they can affect which direction we let our hearts go each day. Everyone has millions of choices they make in their life. Some are innocuous: What shall I wear? What shall I have for breakfast? Some are choices for good or for evil: Should I tell that cashier that she just gave me back the wrong change? Should I tell the people at the grocery store that I inadvertently wasn’t charged for an item I ended up bringing home?

Forks in the road. Will our direction bring us closer to God or take us a step away?

The choice is up to us.

Lost and Found

Jun27

lost walletMy husband misplaced his wallet the other day. We were pretty sure it was somewhere in the house, but we couldn’t figure out where it was. Too bad it doesn’t have a locator like the iPhone does. After two days, we decided it was time to quit saying, “I wonder where it is,” and start tearing the house apart looking for it.

We searched the couch, the boys’ room and our room; all places he remembered having had it before he lost it.

Nothing.

Finally, after I asked him if he checked all his pants pockets, he decided it could possibly be in the load of dark laundry waiting to be done. So, killing two birds with one stone, I took the hamper to the washing machine and began to load in the soiled clothes, feeling around for anything that might resemble a wallet. Nearly to the bottom, bingo! I found the errant accessory in the pocket of a pair of shorts—evidently the ones he was wearing Tuesday night.

Earlier I had offered whomever found it all the cash that was in it. Winnah! I scored a whole buck. But that wasn’t the point. We were already starting to figure in our heads what would need to be cancelled if it wasn’t found soon. There was great rejoicing that we wouldn’t have to go through all that trouble.

On the other hand, we did find a Sharpie, a few pencils and other miscellaneous items in between the couch cushions.

And then my husband, sage that he is, said something profound: You can look as thoroughly as you want for something that is missing, but if you’re looking in the wrong place, it’s all for nothing.

We could have spent hours searching the house and come up empty handed.

There’s an old country song that says the same thing: “Looking for love in all the wrong places.”

The ancient philosopher Blaise Pascal said, “There is a God-shaped vacuum in the heart of every man which cannot be filled by any created thing, but only by God, the Creator, made known through Jesus.”

People look for love where true love can never be found, and even those who know Jesus, the embodiment of love, sometimes still look for approval in other places. Are you a people pleaser? Are you trying to earn God’s love by doing good things? Are you too interested in acceptance? In having people like you?

St. Augustine noted to God, “You have made us for yourself, and our hearts are restless, until they can find rest in you.”

We can search, and search, and search for that which we have lost—or never had in the first place—but if we’re searching where it’s not, we will never find it.

Are you looking for love? Lost fulfillment? Grace? You can find it all in Jesus. He’s always a good place to start.

 

illustration via slate.com

It’s Hard To Pant With A Lizard In Your Mouth

May20

lab and lizardMy friends Guy and Judy have a black lab named Ember. One of Ember’s favorite pastimes is chasing lizards. Luckily for her, lizards abound in her Florida backyard.

Recently, Guy went to take Ember for a walk. Nothing unusual there. Also not unusual was the fact that Ember had captured a lizard. What was unusual is that, even with the draw of the walk—which is one of any lab’s favorite activities—Ember would not let loose of that lizard.

So, unfazed, Guy snapped on the leash and headed out the door with Ember—and her lizard captive in her mouth.

Now, this is Florida, in late April, early May. Ember, as her name might suggest, is coal black. Black dogs + Florida heat = a great need to pant. This is how dogs cool themselves off (when a lake or pool isn’t handy to jump into). But Ember resolutely refused to give up her lizard, thus making heat-diffusing panting impossible.

Finally, unable to bear it anymore, Ember expelled the lizard with a rush so that she could pant away the affects of the heat in her body. It seems she was willing to undergo heat stroke in order to hold onto her hard-won prize.

Aren’t we like that sometimes?

Maybe we’ve been offended or hurt by someone. We hold onto that like a lab with a lizard, unwilling to let it go, even when panting—forgiving and letting it go—could release the heat inside.

Let it go. More lizards will come along, that’s a guarantee.

 

 

photo from beaumontenterprise.com

Beauty From Ashes

May7

furnitureSome people can look on a blank canvas and picture the beauty that could be there, or a fixer-upper house and see the potential, or a dilapidated piece of furniture and see a treasure. I’m not so good at that. That’s why I wasn’t a very good editor. I wasn’t so good at seeing what wasn’t there. My pastor likes to pray, “Lord, help me see what I’m not seeing.”

My friend Lyndee is an amazingly creative crafter, seamstress, writer and more. She once tried to teach me how to sew. I was successful at making a couple of things, but soon learned that I just didn’t have the interest or the knack. She did, however, successfully teach me how to cross stitch, and I have enjoyed that, though not in a long while.

Recently, she posted something on Facebook that was so truthfilled, I asked her if I could share it here. She graciously agreed.

“I love envisioning the beauty in all manner of tired, thrifted items, but the amount of time required to coax the beauty out for others to see often feels ridiculously wasteful. Mid-project, I realize that I must seem like a nut to normal people. But when I succeed, then comes joy! Not so much a look-what-I-made-cuz-I’m-super-awesome joy, as much as a look-at-the-awesomeness-I-found-hiding-in-there-how-cool-is-that?! Maybe that’s how God is with us. Our buried beauty is obvious to Him. He spends a painstaking amount of time coaxing that beauty out for others to see. Not a look-how-perfect-she-is-now, but a look-what-a-mess-she-was-when-I-found-her-and-how-lovely-and-unique-I-can-transform-her-to-be.”

Beauty from ashes, rags to riches, treasure from trash. There’s a big word for the work of God in each of our lives. It’s called “redemption.”

Praise be to God for His indescribable gift!

Thanks for the reminder, Lyndee!

 

image courtesy campclem.com