April 2015: sprang fever

“I wanna live where the green grass grows…” But not in our chickens’ house.

I discovered grass growing through all the dirt, poop, pine shavings, and spilled feed on the floor of the Quack Shack, our birds’ shelter. I also found it growing in the dump cart, in a pile of mud and ashes from the burn pile. Now that I think about it, those areas must be pretty fertile. It just isn’t where I expect to find new growth; I expect to find the same poop/seed mix I see most days.

Life can be that way, too. We expect only the same drudgery, mundane, meaningless vanity we slog through each day, but God has other ideas. Suddenly, after what seems an endless, changeless time of repetition, we find growth in ourselves, our spouse, our children, our neighbors, our friends, and our family. God is still at work. Always has been. And He may let us wander in a desert for 40 years, but He will never leave us anywhere indefinitely. That privilege is reserved for His Presence.

My Grandmother has married…again. This is her fourth husband, and a great fit for her. He’s solid financially, spiritually, and physically, and all of her previous husbands were lacking in at least one of those areas. Now, she will be taken care of, more completely than ever before…and both families of relatives rejoice for them both. And it was a good excuse to catch up with relatives that I haven’t spoken to in years, outside of Facebook.

My infrequent sprints through Facebook leave me with the impression that many people seem to expect universal agreement in a given philosophical perspective about any random issue. They must not have kids, or remember going to school, or something, because the posts seem very open and sincere…perhaps a little too much so for the world-wide web. The responses to these posts invariably contain rebuttals with obscure references, statements of the obvious, and contrary rants, as well as scattered cheers and agreement. Perhaps a diary would be more appropriate for private thoughts; maybe they want to pick a fight, or just see what will come pinging back; maybe it doesn’t really matter.

Easter seems to bring out strong feelings from many. I learned in church today that Christianity not only elevated the status of women, but also spawned the humanitarian notion of medical care for the old, deformed, poor, and unwanted, as well as a remarkably unique standard of sexual faithfulness in marriage. Wow! What a good thing for the world that Christ came and started a church that produced these valuable things…

…unless you’re a peddler of porn, a politician in need of a crisis to solve, or a leader in another religion. Every joy is deeply opposed; John Eldridge taught me that. We are born into a world at war. Battle cannot be avoided; sides must be chosen; values must be defended. (Watch “Henry V” Battle of Agincourt scene)…”upon Saint Crispin’s Day!”

That covers a lot of ground…just like the puddles in our yard. See, it’s been raining for days, and since we have mostly clay soil, it doesn’t absorb quickly, even when it’s dry, so we get a swamp for a yard and wading pools in our gravel driveway. Our pond is trying to establish new outposts everywhere, and the puddles are starting to form corporations. I just hope they don’t try to enforce Imminent Domain.

By the way, we don’t own any sheep. You won’t believe me if you come to visit, but it’s true. See, the insects in our inundated yard make noises like a herd of sheep, but no white wool can be found anywhere. Welcome to the Bug Ventriloquist Hour, or the Home of the Floating Invisible Sheep. It makes us want sheep; at least then, we’d get wool, milk, or meat for all the noise we would have to endure. As it is, we get to watch hawks swoop in and catch frogs in our puddles because the mosquito larvae are so numerous that we can support a large frog population in our wet yard. Frogs must be easier to catch than mice.

But we didn’t flood, hallelujah! And I did get to mow most of my yard once so far this year.  And heat and humidity is not necessarily better than cool, rainy Pacific Northwet Weather. (Yes, I left the “s” out on purpose.) But it’s always harder to appreciate what you’ve had for weeks, and easier to pine for what you don’t have…and then complain about it when it comes and wish for the thing you just replaced. Sheesh; we are silly, aren’t we? Thank God for His patience, and the perspective His Spirit helps us cultivate. We learn to see beyond today without trying to figure it out. Peace comes from trust. I need to remember that.

Well, blah, blah, blah, yadda, yadda, yadda, yackity schmackity…I talk a lot. How about if you talk back? Leave a comment, and let me know if you would like more details about anything you read here. Or maybe you want a rant about restaurant menus, or something. I’ll see what I can do. Thanks for reading.


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