Happy New Year, Readers! As I alluded to in my last post, “The best-laid plans”, December served up some surprises that weren’t wrapped and bowed. This is the first in a series of devotions reflecting on important truths brought to mind while navigating those unexpected circumstances. I pray these humble illustrations will bless you as well.
I checked the forecast before I went to bed. A mere dusting of snow was predicted for our area and the weatherman appeared confident as he stated, “Nothing to worry about.” Ever since experiencing Snowmageddon in January 2014[2], residents of metro-Atlanta join in collective hand-wringing at the thought of snow, so the prediction was reassuring.
But it was so wrong! I awoke the next morning to a world already cloaked in white, as more fluffy flakes floated earthward. I made a hurried trip to the grocery store and returned home before the onslaught of school buses started ferrying hastily-dismissed pupils back to their neighborhoods. Safely ensconced in my warm home, with plenty of supplies, I settled in to witness the rare event unfolding outside. A line of near-freezing cold from the North made acquaintance with plenty of moisture from the South over our swath of Georgia, resulting in perfect conditions for an abundance of snow.
My initial delight gradually turned to concern as I beheld trees bending ever-closer to the ground, their branches succumbing to the weight of their heavy blanket.
As many of you’ve discerned, I love plants and do my best to care for the ones on my small suburban property. Thus, when the precipitation slowed to a halt mid-afternoon, I bundled up and ventured outside. Armed with an old broom, I began to gently poke, nudge and sweep snow from trees and bushes. Limbs of azaleas and camellias, dogwoods and maples reached skyward again once they were freed from their frosty burden. I labored for nearly an hour before retreating inside, satisfied that I’d done what I could to help my plant friends, at least the ones within my reach.
And then it started to snow again. The flakes’ persistent descent proceeded throughout the evening and into the night, sometimes fast and abundant, sometimes unhurried and sparse.
Darkness enshrouded our neighborhood. I peered frequently out my front windows, checking on trees that were once again drooping perilously. The serenity of the streetlight-illuminated scene belied the danger posed by the mounting accumulation. As I gazed in dismay, I saw a large branch of one of my favorite conifers give way, bending slowly toward the street as a horse might lower its head into a feeding trough.
I eventually gave up my vigil and crawled into bed, hoping, praying that more would be spared than damaged.
Precipitation had ceased by the time I made my way downstairs the following day, but the sky was steely.
I hastened to measure the accumulation before it was disturbed by frolicking children. Almost 10 inches adorned my yard, an amount unheard of since the Blizzard of ’93. With a sinking heart, I made note that many of my trees and shrubs were still pitifully bent, the branch of the juniper indeed irreparably broken, along with three others on the same specimen.
The gray scene soon gave way to a glistening wonderland. Clouds dissipated, revealing a
brilliant blue sky and sunshine that skipped across the now-sparkling blanket of white. As I watched, the benevolent rays and a gentle breeze began to free the trees from their frozen constraints, accomplishing much more than I could with my broom. Snow fell in flurries and chunks. Limbs commenced to thaw and unfurl.
I smiled sheepishly, acknowledging that the Lord is fully capable of caring for his creation, acceding, yet again, that I am a steward, He is the Owner. Every plant, bird, blade of grass is his. Nevertheless, He has entrusted each of us with gifts and resources to use for his glory, and has placed folks in our sphere of influence that we might minister to them in various ways.[3] Even though God doesn’t need our help, He not only graciously allows and enables us to take part in caring for our world and each other, He commands us to do so.[4]
It’s weighty enough to be good stewards of the material resources God has consigned to us, much less the physical, emotional and spiritual well-being of the people who share our lives, especially our children and grandchildren. What if I mess it up? What if my best efforts fall short? Our peace and assurance come from remembering He is God and we are not. He alone is able to replace hearts of stone with hearts of flesh.[5] And, as a wise friend told me when my firstborn was still an infant, God loves our children even more than we do, because ultimately they belong to Him. Precious truth for this once-young mom as well as her now-three-decades-older self.
Lord, please help us to have a proper view of our place and our efforts.[6] May we be faithful stewards of that which you’ve entrusted to us, but let us never forget You are Sovereign over the outcome. Grant us your peace as we trust You in all things.[7]
Every faculty you have, your power of thinking or of moving your limbs from moment to moment, is given you by God. If you devoted every moment of your whole life exclusively to His service, you could not give Him anything that was not in a sense His own already.
(C. S. Lewis, Mere Christianity)
[1] * Steward: A person who acts as the surrogate of another, especially by managing property, financial affairs, an estate, etc. (Dictionary.com)
[2] January 28, 2014. A combination of snow and ice created gridlock on area roads, stranded thousands of motorists and resulted in numerous schoolchildren spending the night at school or on buses. Metro-Atlanta finally started to thaw out several days later.
[3] 1 Peter 4:7-11
[4] Genesis 1:28; Matthew 28:18-20; Galatians 6:1-3
[5] Ezekiel 36:26-27
[6] Romans 12:3
[7] Philippians 4:6-7
Two major events – a 10-inch snowfall and my mom’s unexpected hospitalization, including back surgery – took precedence, disrupting daily activities as well as special plans and traditions. One day melded into another as the countdown to Christmas continued unabated. Although the unforeseen circumstances derailed one or two highly-anticipated events, there were still special moments to be savored. Furthermore, the detours gifted me with time to reflect, to re-prioritize, to remember who’s in control.
I tread gingerly, careful not to step on any of the favorite, kid-friendly (read: “unbreakable”) Christmas decorations scattered about on the playroom floor. Among those recently freed from their storage boxes: the Peanuts gang – Charlie Brown carrying his spindly tree, Linus hugging his blanket, Sally holding her outrageous letter to Santa; a stuffed, chartreuse Grinch with his menacing scowl; and the Fisher-Price nativity, whose plastic figurines are perfectly proportioned for tiny hands.
“Emma, are you telling Baby Jesus ‘happy nappy’?” My query was met with her inimitable, “Yes”.
Oh the beauty and simplicity of child-like faith, the kind of faith Jesus commended
Regardless of its manner, it is a certainty.
Ask six-year-old Joshua which show he’d like to watch and chances are he’ll reply with an exuberant, “Wild Kratts, please!” Each episode of the animated wildlife series features a different animal or two as cartoon versions of real-life brothers, Chris and Martin Kratt teach viewers about various critters. To keep things extra-interesting, the ever-dedicated siblings are usually tasked with keeping a particular episode’s subjects safe from one of several regularly-guest-starring scoundrels.
The Lord deals with us in much the same way, remembering we are dust, frail creatures who sometimes lose sight of Him amidst our storms. As our compassionate Father, He often sends personally-prepared reassurances of his watchful care. On the day Irma blew through, my reminder came via the unruffled presence of the birds as they fed contentedly. When I strolled my woods several days later, I discovered another special gift. Nestled safely at the base of a towering oak bloomed a tiny cyclamen, unfazed by events earlier in the week.
Mom says she could always tell when I saw her in the audience at one or another of my elementary school concerts. A smile would spread across my face and I would relax, knowing my biggest fan was there. And so it was with my daughters and now my grandchildren. Indeed, wise directors of lower-school productions allow a few minutes before commencing for their performers to connect with those who’ve come to watch. Exchanging waves and grins makes for a cheerful beginning all around.
A spikey orange and black gulf fritillary caterpillar munched methodically on a passionflower bud while butterflies flitted around the vine ready to lay the next generation of eggs. Japanese anemone and wood asters displayed the first of their late-summer blooms. Peace began to return to my soul. The One who spoke everything into existence created me in his image.
I’ve since contemplated the statement in Revelation regarding the new order of things. “There will be no more night. They will not need the light of a lamp or the light of the sun, for the Lord God will give them light.”
Indeed, trust is a precious commodity and the foundation of any successful relationship, be it business or personal. Once broken it requires much time and faithfulness to repair, restore, rebuild, if it ever happens at all.