Heavenly Hugs

Several weeks ago, I received the following text from a dear sister in Christ, “Praying that the Lord will refresh you by His Word and Spirit today . . . some heavenly hugs to remind you of His presence . . . some quiet moments.”

Prompted by her knowledge that I was dealing with some weighty matters, the text itself felt like one of the hugs she wished for me. Oh the blessing of friends who take note of our concerns and reach out to encourage us!

I texted my thanks and mentioned I hoped to spend time in my garden, the backdrop to some of my sweetest moments with the Lord, later that day. Being outside often feels like a big Fatherly bear hug, one that melts my stress and recalibrates my perspective. But those of you who are longtime readers know I frequently find special treasures when I’m working in my yard. Gifts I imagine the Lord tucking tenderly here and there for me to discover and delight over.

Attired in my yard clothes – faded jeans, PFG shirt, well-worn work boots, and a wide-brimmed hat – I headed outside in search of solace. The reel mower whirred as I pushed it around and around what I refer to as my “keyhole of grass”. (I’m NOT a proponent of giant swaths of perfectly-manicured turf, but I’ll save that soapbox for another post.) The sun warmed my back and the tension in my shoulders subsided. Bees and butterflies visited one bright blossom after another. The fresh air worked its usual magic and nudged my cares aside, at least for a while.

I’d been outside for a couple of hours when I remembered my friend’s message, her prayer for heavenly hugs. Although I’d been reveling in the beauty of the afternoon, grateful to be playing in the dirt, I hadn’t come across anything specific that prompted an exclamation of, “That’s it! That’s today’s treasure, a heavenly hug.”

It’s ok, I thought. The whole afternoon’s been a blessing.

125My time outside was drawing to a close when I pulled up a spent summer annual, revealing a spindly bit of passionflower vine with a solitary gulf fritillary caterpillar munching intently on a bedraggled leaf. My heart soared! I’d been hugged.

I suppose most folks wouldn’t have paid much attention to the tiny orange visitor arrayed with black, predator-discouraging spikes. Yet as I gazed at him, I received a reminder of two important truths:

God’s provision. Passionflower (Passiflora incarnata) is the only food source for gulf fritillary caterpillars. For several years I intentionally planted the vine by my mailbox, enjoying wave after wave of caterpillars until all the leaves were consumed and only bare stems remained. My summer reveries came to an end though when I realized neighbors’ mosquito treatments killed the caterpillars. I pulled up the vine, unwilling to create a death trap for my annual visitors. Sprigs of the vine continue to emerge from roots left in the ground. I sadly and dutifully pull them up too. The one the caterpillar was feeding on escaped my notice, hidden under another plant. But an egg-laying butterfly found it amidst all the other plants on my property. Isn’t that amazing?! And if God provides for butterflies and caterpillars and birds and lilies, we can be sure He’ll provide for His beloved children (Matthew 6:25-33).

Perseverance. By the time I discovered the miniature passionflower vine with its voracious visitor, we’d endured several weeks of drought accompanied by way-above-average temperatures. Although the plant’s leaves bore faded splotches, it had survived the unfavorable conditions and was available to host the egg that became the caterpillar. Endurance is an essential aspect of our walk with the Lord. Hardships, challenges, droughts of various kinds – we’re told to expect them. But great blessings, from godly character to eternal life, come with perseverance (Romans 5:3-5; James 1:12). The indwelling Spirit enables us to persevere until the day of Jesus’ return when God will complete the good work He began in us (Philippians 1:6).

At times we need reminders, don’t we? The world can be so loud and demanding, muffling God’s still, quiet voice. But He’s always with us, just as He promised, and sometimes He sends perfectly-packaged heavenly hugs to reassure us. Our Father knows each of us by name. He never loses sight of us. And He loves us so much more than we can fathom.

So I ask you not to lose heart over what I am suffering for you, which is your glory. For this reason I bow my knees before the Father, from whom every family in heaven and on earth is named, that according to the riches of his glory he may grant you to be strengthened with power through his Spirit in your inner being,  so that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith—that you, being rooted and grounded in love,  may have strength to comprehend with all the saints what is the breadth and length and height and depth,  and to know the love of Christ that surpasses knowledge, that you may be filled with all the fullness of God. Now to him who is able to do far more abundantly than all that we ask or think, according to the power at work within us, to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, forever and ever. Amen. (Ephesians 3:13-20)

 

They’re back!

Two years ago I planted a passionflower vine by my mailbox. I’d seen one growing profusely at the garden where I volunteer. IMG_1289Not only are the flowers intricately beautiful, but Passiflora is the only host genus for the Gulf Fritillary butterfly’s caterpillars. (See “Very Hungry Caterpillars”, September 2014 for more info.)

That first season I only got to enjoy two or three flowers before the ravenous caterpillars started devouring the plant. Last year the passionflower was well-established and provided numerous blossoms for me to gaze upon as well as nourishment for several waves of my little orange buddies with black spikes.

Now in its third season, the passionflower is flourishing. Ok, so that’s putting it politely. It’s actually starting to take over the entire mailbox bed, including the summer annuals residing there. For several weeks I thought, “No problem! Soon the caterpillars will show up. They’ll have plenty to eat plus I’ll have plenty of flowers.” I examined the vine every morning when I went out to collect the newspaper and every evening when I checked for mail. No caterpillars. Then one day I saw a tiny caterpillar in the clutches of a wasp. What did I do? I turned to Google, of course! “Do wasps eat caterpillars?” Unfortunately, they do.

I kept up my twice-daily vigil, hoping there would eventually be enough caterpillars to satisfy the wasps and still leave some to make it all the way through their life cycle. Days passed with only an occasional sighting. Then I realized there was an army of ants busily traversing the sprawling vines. Back to Google. “Do ants eat caterpillars?” Yes, yes they do. By this time I was feeling rather dismal about the situation since I doubted it would be possible to get rid of the ants without negatively impacting the caterpillars.

My five-year-old grandson, Joshua, encouraged me to find the ant mound and deal with the pesky marauders at their source. I was somewhat surprised he didn’t say, “That’s the way the world works, Grammie”, as he often does when I bemoan the fact some predator has taken down its prey. Being an avid fan of “Wild Kratts”, Joshua is incredibly knowledgeable about a multitude of creatures. He takes the food chain in stride, knowing some animals get eaten by other animals as God provides for all of his creation.

Yet I can’t help but wonder if the way the world’s working isn’t the way it’s supposed to work at all, particularly when it comes to death. Some months ago I was reading the first chapter of Genesis, a passage I’ve read MANY times, when I noticed something. Take a look at verses 29 and 30: Then God said, “I give you every seed-bearing plant on the face of the whole earth and every tree that has fruit with seed in it. They will be yours for food.  And to all the beasts of the earth and all the birds in the sky and all the creatures that move along the ground—everything that has the breath of life in it—I give every green plant for food.” (Emphasis mine.) Do you see it too? In the beginning, when God created everything and it was all good, there was no death, not even animals eating each other. Only after the fall did the shedding of blood become commonplace and, at times, necessary. Sadly, that’s the way the world works now, even when it’s man spilling a fellow man’s blood.

But there was One who came to save and restore by shedding his own precious blood. Because He did, we have the assurance that someday all things will be set right again. The world will once more work as its Creator originally intended. Speaking of Jesus’ return, the prophet Isaiah said,

IMG_1539 “Righteousness will be his belt and faithfulness the sash around his waist. The wolf will live with the lamb,  the leopard will lie down with the goat, the calf and the lion and the yearling together; and a little child will lead them. The cow will feed with the bear,  their young will lie down together,  and the lion will eat straw like the ox. The infant will play near the cobra’s den,  and the young child will put its hand into the viper’s nest. They will neither harm nor destroy on all my holy mountain, for the earth will be filled with the knowledge of the Lord as the waters cover the sea.” [1] (Emphasis mine.)

His promised return is certain. We can wait confidently and expectantly for the day when there will be no more pain or tears, when death will be swallowed up in victory once and for all. And while we wait, God graciously sustains his creation . . .

Several days ago my morning caterpillar search yielded the results I’d been hoping for. A grateful smile spread across my face as I discovered a dozen or so voracious nibblers of various sizes. They’ve been steadily eating and growing ever since and have been joined by more. A small thing in the overall scheme of life to be sure, but a gift nonetheless from the One who knows how much I delight in hosting the Gulf fritillaries and their offspring each year.IMG_1578

 

 

 

[1] Isaiah 11:5-9

Very Hungry Caterpillars

“The caterpillar ate through one nice green leaf, and after that he felt much better.”
Eric Carle

Getting to study horticulture the past three years has given me the opportunity to be introduced to lots of interesting new (to me) plants. Passiflora incarnata is one such plant. One of its common names, passion flower, alludes to the fact that some of the components of its wonderfully complex flowers have been likened to various aspects of the passion of Christ. According to the Floridata website, “The name, Passiflora or ‘passion flower’, was given by 16th century Spanish missionaries in South America who thought they saw a reference to the Crucifixion of Christ in the elaborate flower structures: the corona, sitting at the top of the flower, is the crown of thorns; the five anthers are the five wounds; the three styles are the three nails; and the five petals and five sepals are the apostles, less Judas and Peter.” (The two apostles who betrayed Jesus – Judas to the utmost and Peter only temporarily.)Passiflora incarnata

 

I decided the stunning flowers would make a lovely addition to my garden and planted a small vine next to my mailbox. I watched as the vine grew, wrapping tiny tendrils around support stakes as it went. I searched daily for buds, which finally appeared. Sadly, for some enigmatic reason, all but two failed to produce the much anticipated and hoped-for flowers. Instead, my Passiflora produced a bounty of a different kind . . .

In addition to the beautiful flowers, I learned Passiflora serves as a host plant for the larva of the Gulf fritillary, a lovely bright orange butterfly with black markings. The Gulf fritillary is so-named because of its migration across the Gulf of Mexico. Sure enough, one morning when I went out to get my newspaper, I spied the first of what would be several waves of caterpillars to feast on my vine. Although the orange caterpillars don’t sting, they have rows of soft black spines. The black and orange stripes warn potential predators of their toxicity and so, even though my little crop of caterpillars was munching away in plain view, the birds left them alone to eat and grow. And eat and grow some more!An early caterpillar

I delighted in watching the caterpillars, checking on them every morning when I went to retrieve my newspaper and every afternoon when I went to the mailbox. Then one afternoon they were all gone. The first group, in its entirety, had disappeared in the four hours or so between my two daily treks down the driveway. Search as I might over the next few days, I couldn’t find any of the chrysalises. Soon more tiny but ravenous caterpillars appeared and started munching their way through the remaining leaves.A late catepillar

Noticing the bedraggled appearance of my vine, a well-meaning friend asked what I was planning to use to “take care of” the voracious intruders. I explained that the caterpillars would turn into butterflies and I was willing to sacrifice my plant so they could complete their life cycle. As a matter of fact, I was rather in awe of the ability of the mother butterflies to find my vine in the first place. It was small (and getting smaller every day), the only Passiflora on my property and possibly the only one for miles around. Yet because of the innate capability God instilled in them, the fritillaries found, and deposited their eggs on, the only genus of plant their caterpillars feed on. After some more cycles of hatching and eating, there were no more leaves (or buds) left on the vine and the subsequent generations were left to eat the stem. As I watched them gnawing away, I could only imagine that the stem was much tougher than the tender leaves.

With each successive hatching, there were fewer and fewer caterpillars, probably due to the dwindling food supply. The last hatching yielded only one caterpillar. I checked on him from time to time as I worked in my garden last Saturday afternoon, watching as he valiantly stripped and then ate the outer, green layer of the vine. A couple of days before I noticed a Passiflora seedling had sprouted not too far from the mother plant. After some deliberation, I decided to gently remove the solitary caterpillar from the leafless vine and place him on the seedling, which already had several leaves. I held my breath as I watched him crawl down the short stem of the seedling, hoping I hadn’t confused him when I disrupted his resolute consumption of the tough vine. Fortunately, my fears were unfounded. After a few seconds of exploration he settled in at the base of one of the leaves and resumed eating. I continued to check on him throughout the afternoon, content to see him making headway on the tender leaf.

A tasty last mealThe next morning, when I looked at the seedling, there were two half-eaten leaves but no sign of the caterpillar. I smiled, hoping the leaves had provided a tasty last meal for him before he crawled off to spin his chrysalis.

Over the past month, I’ve seen a number of Gulf fritillaries fluttering about in my garden, no doubt the result of some of the caterpillars I took such joy in watching eat and grow. It was worth sacrificing my Passiflora although knowing how that particular vine can spread around and having already found several more seedlings, I’m hoping next year there will be enough to feed a passel of hungry caterpillars AND provide some exotic flowers for me to enjoy!

As I considered how the Gulf fritillaries faithfully laid their eggs on the right plant, thereby providing the proper food for their offspring, I was reminded that God has provided his Word, both written and in the flesh, to nourish us spiritually. Jesus quoted the Old Testament when he resisted Satan’s temptation to “turn stones into bread” so He could satisfy his hunger after forty days and nights in the wilderness, saying, “Man does not live by bread alone, but on every word that comes from the mouth of God”. (Matthew 4:4) Later in his ministry, He referred to himself as the “true bread from heaven”, saying, “I am the bread of life. He who comes to me will never go hungry, and he who believes in me will never be thirsty.” (John 6:35)

My thoughts also turned to the very hungry caterpillar in the beloved children’s book of the same name by Eric Carle. For the first six days of his existence, the storybook caterpillar ate everything that appealed to him, eventually giving himself a stomach ache. It wasn’t until day seven, when he “ate through one nice green leaf” that he felt better. Like the caterpillar in Carle’s book, we are tempted to feed on many things other than the spiritual nourishment God has provided and, similarly, we often find those things to be poor substitutes for the sustenance we need and crave. Instead, may we be as single-minded as the determined Gulf fritillary caterpillars to seek out and consume our designated food, being fully satisfied by the sufficiency of the Word. Gulf fritillary butterfly