Courageous Gifts of Roots

About four hundred years ago, a family left Wales for a newly founded Penn’s Colony. With a few older boys in tow, and one who made his appearance when crossing the Atlantic (aptly named Seaborn), they made the voyage successfully. Settling into the colony, the family became established in their community. Time passed, generations branched out and moved southwest into Kentucky. Deep into timbered hills, where shadows rest late in the morning and pull along evening’s approach early, families were established. Gardens were planted, homes were built and a few lone settlers became communities.

On a recent trip I was reminded of the gift of roots. It took courage to leave a home in Wales and travel across an ocean; to later say goodbye to the established colony and settle the frontier of the Appalachian hills. Generations continued, learning to lean on each other as they formed their own families, taking root and becoming communities.

I watched and listened as family surrounded me last week. Each unique in their gifts, each very special. This beautiful hilled place will be forever my family home, a holder of stories and songs that rise in the memory like the morning mist. Each generation has the opportunity to be a builder for the next, to give them another strong layer upon which to place their own structure. I also am part of the branching out, and in so doing found a new home.    

Big Questions from Little Seeds

Tiny seeds slowly drift down from Cottonwood trees, riding white threaded parachutes. Some seeds landed on the grass, others landed on the track where I was walking yesterday. Just drifting at the mercy of the wind, some seedlings continued to an area where they will start the cycle of life to become new trees. Others remained in areas where trees will not grow.

This summer I have had many seedlings start to become beautiful little trees; many of which seem determined to come up in the wrong places. Green and beautifully growing, sprouts are found in potted plants, cozied up right next to the house and in flower beds. While some can be transplanted, others have to be pulled up or cut down. Holding these tiny seeds in my hand made me think about seeds in my life. Walking along, I was considering a two part question: what seeds are being sown by me and what seedlings are coming up in my life? 

What seeds are being sown by me? Are my words full of truth, grace, mercy and seasoned with salt? Are my actions demonstrating values of love that is bearing, believing, hoping and enduring? What about the heart behind these things; is it self-focused or as a servant heart? Continuing to walk around the track, I used the time to focusing on these questions and know that if I answer honestly, my best answer would have to be - sometimes. I can have seeds in my hand, ready to plant when fatigue, fear, or simple distractions in my everyday life causes poor planting. Seeds land in shallow soil or on rocks where the roots cannot grow as needed. I am glad that God gave me the ability to learn from my lessons (and even laugh at myself through some of them) as I continue to work on this.

What about the seedlings coming up in my life? Weeds are persistent; I wish every year as I work in the yard that once the garden was weeded, it stayed that way! But, they seem to tirelessly spring up again and again. So, I consider what I need to root out and what do I need to continue to root out? This last month and a half, I have felt vulnerable walking through a season of grief, did I seek out the extra stability needed from God’s word and spending time with Him? Am I seeking out the nourishment and water that seeds need to grow strong? Again, I thank God that in these questions that He is the Master Creator that ultimately makes good plants grow and will plan and work with me in my garden.  

Many questions, all good to pursue. Not out of guilt or fear; but with joy in sitting and enjoying a worthy labor, and knowing that my dirty hands have helped to make a garden grow well. 

“Then He spoke many things to them in parables, saying: ‘Behold, a sower went out to sow. And as he sowed, some seed fell by the wayside; and the birds came and devoured them. Some fell on stony places, where they did not have much earth; and they immediately sprang up because they had no depth of earth. But when the sun was up they were scorched, and because they had no root they withered away. And some fell among thorns, and the thorns sprang up and choked them. But others fell on good ground and yielded a crop: some a hundredfold, some sixty, some thirty. He who has ears to hear, let him hear!’” ~ Matthew 13:3-9  

Not Forgotten

Not Forgotten – the victims of the day.

Not Forgotten – the rescuers who ran toward danger

Not Forgotten – the prayer vigils that broke down barriers

Not Forgotten – unlikely heroes who displayed selflessness

Not Forgotten – crumbled steel, clouds of dust, debris fields

Not Forgotten – loss of innocence in looking at any and all airplane flying overhead

Not Forgotten – kindness of neighbors

Not Forgotten – where I was that day

Not Forgotten – the days of strife that followed

Not Forgotten – more sacrifice from those in uniform, and their families and friends that love them

Not Forgotten – leadership in terrible circumstances

Not Forgotten – integrity and honor as hands extended to help

Not Forgotten – many prayers for peace, forgiveness, and for those most directly impacted to retain hope

Not Forgotten – changing laws, terror alerts, new fears

Not Forgotten – structures created by ingenuity, built by strong hands, staffed with those going about their normal day, and their absence

Not Forgotten – a field that became a memorial for an act of selflessness

Not Forgotten – new dreams, new structures, new growth in that field

Not Forgotten – a new day, not that this whole threat is over, but that we can stand, in hands linked in prayer and strength to cry out with one voice

No, they are not forgotten.  And those who survive them and have attempted piece their lives back together are also not forgotten.  I remember where I was that day, the feelings of confusion, shock, and horror.  I remember the pride in those who responded, working to the point of exhaustion over and over to save lives.  I remember prayers for those I love in uniform, for their safety and care while they were going about their duties.  I remember the terror alerts that came out, the color coding system that seemed would become part of our daily world for a while.  Such a cry of pride in those who serve came out, making me also feel pride for those celebrating our responders.  We must not forget the horror of that day.  Nor, the kindness, ingenuity, strength, heroism, selflessness, and genuine love displayed in the days following. 

Fire Ecology

In the Black Hills of South Dakota, the Ponderosa Pine Trees seem to scrape the skies, standing tall and singing like instruments in a giant wind garden.  Scraped to ooze their yellow sap by passing buffalo and strongly planted with impressive root systems, the trees reach skyward in determined growing attempts.  These trees, part of a delicate ecological balance, partner in a process with forest fires.  We don’t see many forest fires in Iowa, at least not anything like what I might see on television while sitting in a recently flooded Iowa river town.  Watching the news about forest fires, the television crews tend to focus rightly on the families and businesses impacted.  But, it is easy to miss another story that is commencing with the fire sweeping through, initiating a new process of growth.  The germination of this particular tree, the Ponderosa pine, requires the natural fire process to germinate new trees.   The seeds require the high heats of a sweeping fire to awaken, as it were, and begin their own sky sweeping growth and development process.  Nitrogen is put back into the soil, dead undergrowth is burned off, and the forest floor is opened up to new life.  It is a destructive process of renewal. 

In passing through the Black Hills a few years ago, I remember seeing the destruction of the fire across the hills.  Charred bark, blackened ground, and dead undergrowth scarred the once green landscape.  It was sad to see the things that were vibrant and lush only shortly before, now charred and sooty as remnants of the damage left by the fire.  Time has passed and now when I look on those same steep slopes, they are carpeted with new pine trees, several feet high and thick in the trunks.  A fresh green is the overwhelming color on the hills, and I can see where new flowers and plants are starting to form again.  The dead lifeless look of the fire area has been turned into a nursery augmenting the current mature forest population.

Perhaps we should pay more attention to the cycles of fire ecology, the processes can teach us about other things as well.  Perched on the high plains, just inside the borders of South Dakota, there is a tiny town named Ardmore.  Admore - a ghost town. 

Driving through this place was outlandishly strange; it was as if everyone had just walked away one day and left vehicles, campers, homes, furniture, etc… behind.  The buildings are in the decaying process, neglected yards are covered in saplings and tall prairie grasses, a sense of emptiness has settled over the space.  What once was a small community is now abandoned to the prairie; burned if you will by the fires of economics.  There was no good source of income, no long-term way this town worked, and a proverbial forest fire of economics has ended its life.  The death of a town is something that I can’t help but look at with a sort of morbid fascination. But, my real interest, are the people and what became of them.  Is the loss still mourned?  Have they found that after the initial char and soot that the burns have healed and they are stronger and ready for new growth? 

We all experience fires in our life, some of them may even be forest fires outside our door.  They sweep through with intensity, and seem to completely devastate the landscape.  What once at least appeared to the casual outside viewer like it was fairly in order and okay has turned to nothing but ash and bareness.  But, we who are Christ followers can trust in the growth that comes from the fires’ destruction.  Regardless if it is moving from a town because of economic fires or the ruin of forest fires, or if it is looking around your life and feeling that it is littered with charred remains, we can look with hope at the devastation.  We have a different kind of fire ecology, the kind where hope remains and good new growth can come from the perceived ruin.  

Pots on the Porch

   Spring must be coming, even though it was thirty degrees this morning, because a porch has been lined with pots. They aren’t fancy or much too look at, a rangy bunch of mismatched colors, beigey green and grayed white, with a mix of shapes and sizes. I see them; dirt spilled here and there showing work in progress. I’m looking forward to seeing what grows in these pots. Seeds to be planted, growing where they are placed.

   Sometimes I don’t come across too fancy. I can have some really interesting hair days or dry skin or just feel off. Truth be told, I would love to just stay in my sweatpants, throw on a t-shirt, and toss my hair up in pigtails or in a ball cap for my going out outfit for the day. Shoes should either be cute and comfy or strictly optional. As a child I would refuse jeans in favor of the comfort of sweats. Still love them! And these are just the surface things, just like that assortment of pots. It is in the dirt, loamy and nutrient filled that seeds are placed and then grow. Blooming up, bountiful in growth, the pots become just an afterthought in the green above them.

Air Fern

   These little plants attach themselves to power lines, trees, fences, and pretty much any other stationary objects. Air ferns are not really ferns, but these tenacious plants attach themselves and gather nutrients and moisture from their surrounding environment. It was kind of amazing driving down the road and seeing plants wrapped in little garlands around different things.

   There are times when I think I need to be like these bromeliads and hang on tight to the world around me, finding nourishment in the environment. It is at the times when I am in the most unlikely of places and still need to grow. So, I plant my roots and collect nourishment from the sun and rain around me.

Seasons and Roadmaps II

   The fall wind has been blustery these past few days. The leaves are being blown off the most stalwart of fall leaved trees and creating a staccato dance across the driveway. The windows have creaked and the door shifted in its frame as the air has moved so powerfully. As the temperatures fall below freezing, it is quite evident that fall is in full swing and winter will be arriving soon. There are many here who do not care for the snow and the cold winds of winter, many who would prefer warmer and balmier temperatures.

   But, just consider for a moment a different view, that of a macro-economist. That view would say that the snow and cold temperatures are valuable because it kills of germs in the soil. We have more productive growing seasons than those around the equator because of that cold.
   So, with that in mind, we have seasons in life as well. There are days when things are balmy and warm. The sun just feels perfect and a light breeze is keeping the temperature nice. These are the days when everything is going well, life is a smile. We have summer.
   There are times when the world changes color, we feel a little dryer, a bit shriveled inside and watch as the color we normally don’t present to the world becomes first and foremost. We find ourselves losing our leaves, bare before the world. We have fall.
   There are times when the snow falls, and though it is beautiful, it is also bitter cold and austere. The silence is loud, and our ears hear everything move. We long for the warmth of a friendly comfort, a soft blanket, a roaring fire, or a comfortable sweater. We have winter.
   There are times when everything seems to be growing and moving. We may be experiencing growing pains, but we are seeing results. It takes work and time, effort and sweat equity, but the reward is visible and wonderful to see. We have spring.
   We have all of these seasons in our lives, many times over. But, the beauty is that there is more than one, and we will move through them to provide growth. Remember the economist, the soil is better for the freeze of the winter, the heat of the summer, the cool rains of fall, and the warming sunshine of spring. We are also often better for the hardships, the trials, and the rests of warmth.

Deadheading Marigolds

    Of all the summer flowers, I think marigolds rank right up there in the top five. They have a fragrance that is both sweet and earthy, and rows and rows of petals making vibrant blooms. When the flower fades, it doesn’t scatter and fall apart like some flowers do. Those blooms, though now dry, remain tightly stuck together. So, we go along and deadhead them.  By deadhead, I mean that we pluck off the dry bloom and store them for next year. The seeds are all contained in that cluster and will come back up the next year.    I can’t say that the deadheading doesn’t hurt, because as I am not a marigold, I don’t know. But, I do know that there are things in my life that have dried up and once removed I felt refreshed. The actual deadheading may have been a decision that needed making or a habit that needed building. But, there are a tight little cluster of seeds that are removed. Then, safely tucked away, they will be ready to start a new season of growth.

Sunflower Lessons

   Driving to a nearby town a few weeks ago, I saw large wild sunflowers blooming along side of the road. There was paved road, gravel, and then sunflowers. They weren’t part of a formal garden, where someone had carefully selected the spot for them to grow. They weren’t being cultivated and tended carefully. These were where some sunflower seeds had been taken by the wind and were now growing.

   Driving along, I was thinking that we have some lessons presented to us in the most obvious fashions that we find, at times, to be unbearably subtle. There were lessons that were coming from that sunflower patch that day.a
   Standing in the sun, they were blooming where they were planted. They were not looking disheveled and at a pouted wilt because they didn’t like their location. It didn’t matter that mulch wasn’t placed around or that the border flowers are really just a collection of weeds. So, the lesson is to bloom were you are at. Don’t wait for the perfect garden landscape to be created around you. Create beauty where you are.
   Do I always succeed at this? I roll my eyes even thinking about it, No! No, I don’t. Sometimes I look around, and certainly have looked around, and wondered – why here, why now, what in the world is around me? Conversations would occur in my car, prayers that generally consisted of, “Lord, can you tell me why I am here? And I know you have a purpose, so can we just get it over with so I can get out of here? These people don’t even have a ....!” Thankfully, patience is a virtue because I haven’t found my car hurtling toward some life lesson just to smash in nose first because I wanted the time-table changed. I generally find out that my blooming where I was planted wasn’t just for the benefit of someone else, but for mine as well. And as for the time in-between, it was needed, chafed against – but needed..
   The other lesson was to bloom. Period. Those seeds, perhaps dropped by birds or winter stockpiling squirrels, met the ground, buried in, and grew. There was no checklist of further supplies which had to be delivered first, no waiting list of to-dos which were to be done before further growing would commence. They were planted, so they attempted to grow. That was their focus, grow because I can and should. We often have opportunities to grow and don’t. Why? We’re waiting for all of the to-do’s to be all-done’s and the circumstances to be just so. Don’t wait. Get started – go grow!
   Again, not always my strongest point. I love to have all of the parts in place, all of the information, all of the facts, detailed and highlighted maps with exit numbers marked in color-coded highlighter. I use pro/con lists and want plans of what something will look like long before I ever step foot into even deciding whether or not to step foot into it. Thus, growth can certainly go on the back burner. But, God has a way of pushing me forward, albeit reluctantly at times, and reminding me – go grow! “But, I don’t know everything yet, what if I fail?” Yeah, that is generally what it boils down to. The answer that comes back is one that humbles me and encourages me all at the same time, “Then pick yourself up and keep growing.”
   So go, grow, and bloom.

Pain of Freedom

   In our world of I can do it without any help, thank you very much, we often assume that freedom means a release of pain. Freedom seems to be seen as something which lets you be carefree and without any sticky and messy attachments. But freedom can be something that is quite painful. I heard the other day how Frederick Douglass seriously considered staying in a life of slavery because the transition to freedom was going to be so painful. He was going to have to say good-bye to dear friends and family and venture into a new life. Freedom awaited him, but so did pain, and this led him to put off the decision to leave a while longer. Imagine the world without Frederick Douglass, if he had not taken his place in the use of his gifts and been instrumental as an abolitionist. Douglass wrote upon leaving, “‘A new world had opened upon me.’ ‘Anguish and grief, like darkness and rain, may be depicted, but gladness and joy, like the rainbow, defy the skill of pen or pencil.’”

   We can learn from this that when we move from the slavery of sin to the freedom of righteousness that it may be a difficult, painful, and wonderful thing.

It’s the Little Things

I like to shop. I like to find the perfect pair of jeans that fit. I took about two years to pick out a dish set that I liked. I like to travel. I like to have the technology around me that makes life a bit easier. I like these things… but they are not the real joy of my life.

It is the little things, the non-thing things that are really the joy. It’s the big things of momentous occasions. For me, the little and big things are the sound of a little boy’s feet as he runs through the house. The color of the sky after a storm passes and the sky clears up to a blue that just looks clean and makes the whiteness of clouds stand out brilliantly. The smell of a fresh green bean picked right off of the green bean bush. Watching a fawn, still new and spotted, be allowed to explore its world for the first time just slightly away from mom. It is the sound of laughter with a friend. It is a friend you are so comfortable with that make-up, hair done, clothes carefully selected, and the house picking up not only does not have to occur, but you don’t ever worry about it because it’s just not going to be an issue. The smell and taste of the steam of freshly made hot coffee, pungently black and bitter in the nose. The feel of a hand of a brand new little life wrap around a finger. Puppy kisses that can’t help but make me giggle, as my dog tries to clean my entire face. The color of the birds, and the sound of a morning dove. Visiting just to visit and enjoying the company of a friend. Singing with the radio, signing in the kitchen, signing in the driveway, singing in the grocery store, just singing in general – can you see a pattern there? It is the feel of clean sheets and warm towels right out of the dryer. It is the smell of chicken on the grill and fresh sweet corn on the plate. It is the labor of a task well done and accomplished. It is the quiet time to listen to God. It is the goose bumps when you have just a glimpse of His awesome mightiness and love. It is the sounds of honest tears as pains are shared and not hidden. It is the sound of an argument worked through and not hidden from. It is the birthdays, anniversaries, hellos, and good-byes. It is the memories which make you choke up with emotion and the memories which come back fleetingly and startle you with their sudden clarity. It is the pain that God uses for a good purpose. It is a well fitting ball cap and the cool breeze on your head when you lift it up after mowing. It is sleeping in, and being thankful to be able to get up when the alarm clock goes off and there is no sleeping in. It is small town parades with candy and bands and fire trucks. It is back porch picnics with make shift tables and sitting on rugs on the concrete floor. The smell that is unique to books along it’s spine, I stick my nose in and breathe deep. It is a family who loves, friends who are family, and being a child of God.
It’s the little and big non-thing things.

Grass in the Sidewalk

I was walking up the hill to the car and it struck me that the grasses growing in the cracks of the sidewalk had withered to a very dead shade of plant burned brown. Just a few weeks ago, these plants were bright green and growing quite well. Yes, I know that sidewalks shouldn’t have grasses growing up in them without breaking the concrete eventually. I just remember noticing them because they were such a bright green.

The thing that really struck me as I continued up the hill was that I can empathize with those plants. Though this is not where I am currently at, I realize that just like those plants in the sidewalk, too much heat and not enough water makes me wilt. I need inspiration, time, quiet, noise, music, friendship, laughter, and love. I recognize that just like eating properly requires decisions and effort, so does growth. You can’t just toss out a long term goal of growth or change without planning some steps and how you will continue to re-invigorate your purpose along the way. Otherwise, you wind up just like the grass in the sidewalk, leaves dropped to the pavement, brown, and dry.

Dirty Cleanliness

Yesterday I was helping in the church garden. It is my first time out this year to help weed. I enjoy going, but my calendar has been full and I haven’t made the additional time to fit it into my priorities. I do know that when I go out to the garden, I will find fellowship and dirt. This time was no exception. Gathered with several other people, (including the teens of whom I am very proud of to see working), we started in and declared that the weeds lives were numbered. Good bye grass plants and creeping charlie, good-bye prickly weeds and wild morning glories. Hello dirt and orderly rows of plants. I saw many hands, including my own, caked with dirt. Dirt caked into the crevices of my hands and packed under my finger nails. The garden raises produce to share for free with the community.

Washing my hands later, I was thinking of the phrase “Cleanliness is next to Godliness.” Somehow, it always evokes a Puritan-esque woman with her hair pulled up tightly into a bun, and her skirts arranged just so. Contrary to some beliefs, this isn’t a Biblical quote. And looking at my hands, I was grateful. They were filthy. The creases of where my hand was bent stood out like white lines against dirt stained skin.
The truth is, many times when we put our hands in to work they come back dirty. To encourage and grow others, means to not shy away from the mess of life but to dig right in. I need to go find my nail brush and see if I can’t get another layer of dirt off. Dirt that was worth the work.

Just on Time

Different plants bloom at different times. I don’t if you ever noticed, but it is spring – so take a look around. There are some trees which have budded, bloomed, leafed out and look ready to go for another year. Others are somewhere mid-process, while still more are just beginning to bud. What would happen if we set up a timetable of when this should occur? All trees that are going to be productive are going to bud and be fully leafed out by April 24. If they are not, then they are just weaker or dying and we are cutting them all down.
That sounds rather foolish doesn’t it? We don’t do that with trees, flowers, but do with people. So, let’s change the metaphor just a bit. If someone is to bloom, I’m not talking about an age range or biological factors. Instead this is blooming by perceiving and then reaching towards meeting your potential and purposes. Society often has this preconceived timetable of when this should be, the mysterious and shrouded “they” are in charge of this time table. We know that when someone tries to bunk the myth and ask why, “because they say so....”. Who says you have to college at a certain age, who says you are going to learn a new skill, you have to learn it by a pre-appointed time. Does that mean if I don’t meet your timetable that my head will explode or the time continuum as we know it will shatter?
Sometimes, we need to just provide a little encouragement. Provide a bit of fertilizer and nourishment, a word or two of pep talk, and then sit back. After some time and lots of sunshine, you may find that this person is not only blooming, but is one of the best fruit producers of the whole lot.
In the church, do we put age limits on ourselves or others? I’m too young to do that. I’m too old to do that. I had my time, now I get to sit back on my laurels and just watch. No offense, but who really wants to sit on a laurel – ouch! Nonsense! There may be years and years of nourishment that has gone into this person that suddenly springs forward in a burst of blooms and ability that is absolutely breathtaking. Where would we be if we just cut them down? It is important to remember that our timeline is not God’s timeline. He will insist we bloom just on time.

Seasons

I’m sitting on the front porch, staring up at the big tree in the front yard. Green leaves are popping out everywhere, from all of the branches. They aren’t full size yet, and still have that distinctive fresh and new green color. The leaves are opened as wide as they can, trying to catch the sun. I wonder if that tree could talk, what would it say about spring. Such tremendous growth is present, but there is a lot of work there as well. Winter came and the tree was quiet, no leaves, no growth, just maintaining life, just surviving. Weaker branches fell to the ground during some of the more harsh winter storms, with icy coverings and the weight of thick snows. But now, it looks quite beautiful.


I wonder if that tree could talk, would it opt for the quiet of the winter season? Would it want to remain quiet, not putting forth efforts for new growth. Of course, that tree wouldn’t survive forever in a wintry state. Eventually, it would need the energy it can only get from the sun, through the leaves.


People talk about seasons and history, as if they were circular. And in many cases, they probably are. We see repetition, even commenting on it with quotes about repeating mistakes, going and coming around. But let me just venture this idea out, it’s not really circular – it’s linear. Linear, and mobile. On that line, we can choose to move forward, move back, or stand still. Well, sometimes we choose. Sometimes, it is chosen for us. There may be seasons, times, in our life where we are like the winter tree. We are quiet, we do not produce fruit, we do not grow, we just survive, just maintain life. But spring must come eventually or we will become misshapen and malnourished. It will be effort, purposefully striving to grow, but grow we must. Then, it is a delicate time, full of promise and yet susceptible to damage by the frost.


“I am the vine, you are the branches.” If God is the vine, He can choose that the entire plant will grow. But what about those branches, the ones that just don’t produce leaves or fruit? Remember the branches in the tree, they fell off during the ice storms. We prune away the dead in the spring, removing the damaged parts and allow for new growth to occur. In much the same way, God prunes us. He sees the damaged parts, the parts which do not recover from the blasts of frost, ice, and snow. Those are removed, the energy that we pour into the them can be then sent someplace else. The damaged parts, they must be examined. Some can be fixed. A little time, tender care, and the appropriate actions can cause the damaged section to promote new life, sending off new shoots, in a new direction. Other damages are much more severe and must be removed, lest the whole branch sicken.


We are in a spring, it is a new season, with new days ahead. We can choose to repeat our to seek new growth.

Lord Change Me

I prayed a simple prayer, well simple in syntax anyway, just three words over several months last year.

“Lord, change me.”

It wasn’t something lengthy or lofty discussion on a difficult theological point. Yet, it had complexity and structural layers which staggered my understanding. Lord, change me was brought to my attention through a book by Evelyn Christenson. She challenged the readers to pray this prayer.

Not …“God, please change my neighbor because they drive me crazy and put their leaves in my yard.”
Not … “God, please change those leaders because they have all lost their minds.”
Not … “God, please change my family.”
Not … “God, please change that difficult co-worker.”

But, “Lord, change me.” Please oh please, change me. I prayed this and wasn’t really quite prepared for what sequence of events occurred. I look back now and I can see events falling into place, one after another, which at the times were so difficult, even intimidating. They were not in vain though, they served a purpose and God was answering that prayer.
Then, with an lovely group of ladies, we started praying that God would bring it to our hearts and minds grumbling. I felt like all my grumbling was ink that was coming out of my mouth, staining everything in somewhat close proximity. I was startled and dismayed at the amount of grumbling I was now aware of. It seemed that I just needed a mop wherever I went. This is something I am still working on, though the initial tidal flood of inky perception has slowed somewhat.
Just recently, I felt the need to progress further in the Lord change me prayer. I’m not sure where this will lead, but I’m excited to find out.

Growing Up – the Process

John, born with such promise and a prophesy.  But, what happened with that potential?  Luke 1 finished with “the child grew and became strong in spirit…” 

Such detail was given to the pregnancy and then – just this little phrase.  Don’t you wish there was a bit more detail?  I do!  But, we do now know two things – growth and strength occurred.  Growth obvious means physical growth, as a toddler stretched and grew into a little boy.  Then, the little boy into a pre-teen, a teenager (perish the thought) and then a man.  Just imagine Elizabeth and Zechariah smiling and shaking their heads as John outgrew his clothes, ripped holes in his pants, and changed shoe sizes every month.  At the same time, there must have been another kind of growth occurring – a growth in maturity and understanding in God’s ways.  The hunger that is a cliché in a young boy might have also been a hunger for God’s words and love.  Elizabeth and Zechariah must each have been a part of this growth.

The other thing that happened is that Zechariah became strong in spirit.  Strength usually denotes intensity, a power, a depth, or a concentration that is a forte in someone’s life.  Note that there is a word before strong though – became.  John was not born strong in spirit, but had to become that way.  Even with such a big entrance into the world, John still had to become strong.  What an encouragement that one word is as I also work on my own becoming. 

The next part of the phrase was that John “lived in the desert until he appeared publicly to Israel.”  Why would John live in the desert?  The desert must have been a great place for learning.  Part of the desert’s appeal to John might have been the solitude.  This allowed him plenty of time to think, to pray, to seek God.  The desert is also a place to observe needs being met in unlikely ways.  There is actually a lot of beauty and growth in that austere climate, blooms, growth, and wildlife that flourishes there.  Every need is met perfectly to suit that environment.  John would have seen this and had a chance to see God provide for every need of the environment. 

Until….and there is that timing word again.  Until John appeared publicly to Israel, he left the quiet to go to his people.  God had spent an intensive training time with John to put him to work – not to just keep him on the proverbial bench.  God was training John for a reason.  This was now the beginning of putting the training into practice. 

How are you being trained?  How are you going to put this into practice?