The Grateful Seed

“Don’t be discouraged or anxious, the Lord has chosen to give you the Kingdom." ~ Luke 12:22-34

“Life just isn’t fair,” thought the tiny seed buried in the mud.  While others were thriving above, Zera (Hebrew for seed), was stuck in the dark, wet dirt.  A few days ago, she’d fallen to the ground.  Then it rained a little before a deer crushed her deep into the soil.

But what Zera didn’t see, was the mouse that ate the seedlings in the grass, the chipmunk that gathered them to store for the upcoming winter, or even the fire that scorched all that lived above; casting it as confetti into the sky.

Autumn days soon got shorter, colder.  Winter settled in for the long embrace to Mother Earth, freezing the life from those seedlings who hadn’t taken sufficient care.

Spring arrived!  Zera heard the promise of summer.  Warmer days and soothing rains brought the song she needed to raise her spirit.  As she warmed and sipped heaven-given rain, her tiny shoot emerged, reaching for sunlight, joining a community of other plants rising bold and vibrant.

Yet Zera’s troubles weren’t over. 

In the next 12 months, it grew only a few inches while the other plants made greater strides as if to mock her.  Having lost her leaves in the fall, the sapling barely survived the bitter winter.  As it grew, she faced critters, droughts, and windstorms.

Zera grew many times larger than the seedling she once was, yet still only a fraction of what she was destined to become.  Even while she reached higher and higher into the sunny blue sky, Zera never forgot her roots; sending them deeper and farther into the mud that’d once miraculously protected her.

Each year, Zera grew upward and outward.  She survived tornadoes and floods and cloudless skies.  She’d become a magnificent oak tree; her bark so patterned as if carved by rain-born rivers.  The foliage of her canopy supported all life on earth; her deep, anchoring roots absorbed fuel for decades of healthy life.

This fallen world provides ample opportunities for despair; it’s a wonder anyone is happy.  It’s difficult missing your work friends due to COVID, facing a debilitating disease, or being mocked for your Christian values.  It’s exhausting to worry about social injustice, economic insecurity, and corruption in politics and government.  It seems as though we’re witness to a world in rapid decay.

We’re all touched by its brokenness, but reassurance can be found in God’s grace.  It’s not us against an evil world.  Believers are citizens of another Kingdom.  And while everything around us is impermanent, His Kingdom has no end.  Like the tiny seed, sink your moral roots deep, grateful that life’s challenges have given us resilience, courage, and faith in the One who created us.

Loving Father, thank You that Your grace has been extended to all who will believe in You as the great shepherd of all the lost people of the world, including me.  Thank You for saving me and drawing me into Your eternal sheep-fold.  Amen

Two Hearts

 “God has given each of you a gift.  Use it to help each other." ~ 1 Peter 4:10

Steph loved the sky before a storm.  Clouds of molten silver were swirling in steady, radiating ripples; alive with an excitement for what was to come.  It seemed that ideas streamed as natural things do on these peaceful drives - from sweet brown soils, glossy leaves, and scarlet tulips.

Her daughter Cassie sat in the backseat, quietly enthralled in her Lion King video for the hundredth or more time.  She watched as children do, giggling, wiggling, and oblivious.  If given a choice between a gold coin or a kitten, she'd take the silly cat every time.  Such simple wisdom.

Their tranquility literally came to a screeching halt when a small object appeared in their headlights, eyes staring back in sheer terror.  Steph hit the brakes with but a split second to react, stopping inches before a confused and terrified small dog.

Steph switched on her hazard lights before exiting her vehicle.  Bright eyes on full beam, tail wagging, the little guy softened into grateful mode.  With eyes so intelligent he could’ve been from Narnia, Steph half expected him to speak as she coaxed him toward the shoulder.

Cassie came fully alert when horns began honking.  Steph opened her door and the pup immediately jumped in, quickly finding Cassie’s lap.  “Well, hello there,” she said in a voice as sweet as a new blossom, and buried her face in the living teddy bear.  In seconds her face was covered in slobber. 

"Kisses ... why ... thank you," Cassie giggled appreciatively.  Her tail no longer wagged, but circled like a helicopter blade; any happier, and his saucer-plate paws might’ve caught some air.

Steph stood there wondering what to do next when a car pulled up.  Luckily a nice older couple (the fourth car to stop, the rest sailed on by) asked if they were okay.

“We’re fine!” Steph said before jokingly asking “You haven't lost a dog, have you?"

“Oh my God,” the woman said, "Yes!  A German Shepperd puppy named Rascal.  He’s appropriately named because he can jump three-foot fences and chew through doors, but we love him already.”

“I believe he's in the back of my car!!” Steph motioned.

They exchanged contact information, and Cassie offered free dog sitting to the owners while Rascal gave her a few more wet kisses.

A double whammy - two acts of kindness reciprocating each other.

We strengthen our capacity to empathize and care by seeing ourselves in others.  Even in small things, it’s this cycle of reciprocity upon which the health of the human family depends.  Human kindness needs only the nourishing soil of reciprocity to thrive.  May we all benefit from loving reminders to act following this wisdom.

Father God, let me be large in thought, word, and deed.  Help me put away all pretense and meet others face to face — without self-pity and prejudice.  May I never be hasty in my judgment, but generous, calm, and gentle.  Amen

(Easter) Transformation

 “Anyone who lives puts his trust in Me will never die." ~ John 11:26

Ask any three people for a transformative symbol and you can count on it at least one of them will mention the butterfly; born of an insignificant caterpillar who will wrap herself in a silk cocoon (or chrysalis) and develop into a delicate winged beauty.

Somehow, the miracle of the butterfly never loses its fascination for me.  Perhaps because the butterfly is a living parable of the resurrection promise Christians celebrate on Easter Sunday.

I’ve always idealized what happens in a chrysalis, when the caterpillar gingerly cocoons herself away from the day’s sunlight.  She’ll later emerge from her tiny tomb as a fully-developed, spectacular butterfly soaring into the heavens, thus completing a gentle metamorphosis from one thing into another.

Biologists, however, say it’s anything but!  The remains of a dissected chrysalis don’t resemble a half-caterpillar, half-butterfly.  But instead, a puddle of liquid goo.

To be able to become a butterfly, the caterpillar must completely decompose down to its very essence, devoid of any shape or consciousness.  Cells rupture.  Muscle dissolves.  All that’s left is an amino acid and protein soup.  It dies.  There’s nothing left of it. 

And from this liquid substance, a butterfly starts to rebuild itself from scratch.  Biologists call what happens to the caterpillar “a violent, utterly disruptive, cataclysmic change.”  The caterpillar experiences its own Good Friday.

The Bible reveals that on Good Friday, Jesus was lifted, already bloodied and broken, onto a crossbeam of wood, where he was further scorned and ridiculed as he slowly asphyxiated.  By the time Friday’s sun was setting, Jesus would’ve been scarcely recognizable, even to his mother and few remaining friends.  Jesus’ face was cruelly swollen, his body contorted and bruised, with shoulders wrenched from their sockets.

Jesus didn’t just die.  He died horribly.

Just three days later, on Easter morning the disciples peered into the open tomb and saw only the linens used to bind Jesus’ dead body - nothing else.  The corpse was gone, much like an empty chrysalis deserted by a butterfly who escaped to soar freely.  "He has risen as He promised," an angel told the skeptical disciples.

For Christians around the world, Easter is a celebration of Jesus’ resurrection.  But Easter is also about us.  If we are to experience Easter, if we are to share in Resurrection, we must be willing to relinquish those things we cling to that threaten our spiritual well-being. 

And when we do, we’ll emerge from Good Friday with the Son of God into new life.  The best of our old lives - our passions, our virtues, our beauties, our loves - will still be at the heart of us.   We will be who we are but redeemed in the light of God’s grace.

Father the Father, thank You for the miracle of life -abundant life here, and eternal life with You in Heaven.  Help me celebrate that life every day as I seek You and follow Your plan for my life.  Amen

Swing (S)low

 “A happy heart makes the face cheerful." ~ Proverbs 15:13

Every guy dreams of one day being just like his dad.  He can envision that day when he looks at his father and sees an exact copy of himself. 

Well, that's how it was for me ever since I was little.  He also knew how to have fun, and even if we messed up, it was never a big deal.  Dad dealt with the scariest of monsters (well, spiders at least), kept his eyes open on the rollercoaster (most of the time), and put on all the silly voices when he read a bedtime story.  I don't think I could ask for a better father. 

Like most kids, I always tried to emulate my Dad and his love of golf.  So, at about age 5, I was at my uncle’s house and we were practicing golf in his huge backyard (though I didn’t need more than 50 feet). 

Cousin Dave came up and asked if he could give it a try.  I showed him what few basics I knew – “keep your head down, focus your eyes on the front edge (target side) of the ball, and take dead aim.”

Dave took a few practice swings before addressing the ball.  As he swung, his 7-iron caught me right above the eye.  Totally my fault!  A small gash opened in the middle of my eyebrow.  It required nothing more than a general anesthetic, cleaning, and 2 stitches.

Dave kept apologizing over and over while I found myself laughing through the blood dripping down my cheek and into my mouth.  I spent the next few days walking around with a huge goose egg, a cool scar, and a black eye.  But it was so worth it. 

In time those scars would become silver trails to a better future, a road map of survival and triumph, a story that brought pride and inspired others.  For years others laughed whenever I wove the tale and gently teased Dave about his switchblade-sharp, 7-iron.

In this life, we all get a poke in the eye from time to time.  Our plans go awry.  Things work against us.  Our ups become downs, and life’s twists and turns take us where they may.  It’s best to handle them with love, acceptance, and laughter. 

It helps turn pain to joy, heartbreak into learning, and it makes God smile.  The Almighty has the most wonderful sense of humor and has gifted us with it.  We’re all imperfect!  Christians who experience a wellspring of joy, are the same people who find it easy to laugh at themselves.  They tend to be much happier and self-confident.

So, keep smiling - even when there’s a goose egg on your forehead and an elbow in your eye.

“Now I lay me down to sleep.  I pray dear Lord my shape to keep.  Please no wrinkles; please no bags and lift my butt before it sags.  Please keep me healthy, keep me young, and thank you Jesus for all You've done.  Amen” (Retiree’s Prayer)

Polio Pioneer

 “There’s no greater love than to give one’s life for one’s friends." ~ John 15:13

A little over 70 years ago, a newly-elected, 16-year-old sophomore ran laps and lifted weights in preparation for football tryouts.  On the drive home, his neck, arms, and legs felt unusually stiff.

He went to bed with a fever that night.  The next morning, his mother found him rigid; struggling to breathe.  A spinal tap later confirmed the dreaded poliomyelitis.

In the early 50s, polio was a national scourge.  Fearing the virus, cities closed pools, theaters, schools, and churches, forcing priests to reach out to their congregations on local radio.  In 1952 alone, there were nearly 58,000 cases and more than 3,100 deaths.  Many children would never walk again, some lost the use of their arms, others never saw another summer.

Unable to breathe on his own, Bill was placed in an iron lung - a mechanical device housing most of his body.  It stimulated normal breathing by varying air pressure inside the machine.

Eventually, he recovered enough not to require help from the iron lung.  But, as that fear and isolation quieted, he realized he couldn't move his limbs.

Pulley devices on his bed helped him exercise his legs. Several times a week, buoyed by warm therapy pools, he practiced walking and sitting in a submerged aluminum chair.  After 6 months, he began walking unsteadily in a back brace with canes.

When a hospital memo went around that Dr. Jonas Salk was seeking volunteers to test an unproven polio vaccine, Bill didn't hesitate.  His motive: To help his two nephews avoid the crippling disease.

His parents objected at first.  Should the anti-polio serum go awry, their son could contract another, more deadly form of the disease.  But when the teenager quoted Christ’s words in John 15:13 above, they clearly understood how God works through people and how He could use their son’s paralyzing illness for good.

On July 2, 1952, Bill Kilpatrick (17) became the world’s Case History #1 to receive Salk’s polio vaccine.  Blood tests soon revealed that he developed permanent immunity to the virus and left the rehab center later that summer.

After a massive field trial in 1954 that involved 1.8 million schoolchildren known as “polio pioneers,” the Salk vaccine was licensed for use on April 12, 1955, 10 years to the day after the death of Franklin Roosevelt; himself a polio victim.  Its final report, released to the media at the University of Michigan’s Rackham Lecture Hall, listed the vaccine as “safe, effective, and potent.”

Bill not only recovered from polio but thrived.  He graduated from college, went to seminary and became an Episcopal Minister.  He served in several dioceses, scaling back his work in the 1980s, after developing the post-polio syndrome.  He died in 2003.

Almighty Father, thank You for the blessing of my friends.  Help me to be the kind of friend to them that will put them first.  Give me the opportunity and willingness to serve their needs and the courage to lay my life down for them if needed.  Amen

The Lullaby of Spring

 “Absorb His words like rain on parched grass and showers on young plants." ~ Deuteronomy 32:2

When the whispers of winter become too faint to hear, when Easter’s lullaby begins echoing amid wistful, fragrant air, we’ve arrived at the first signs of spring.  To the keen eye, there are new buds on old trees and fresh blooms born to a warming earth.

Each spring, the urge to plant something, a flower or anything that would blossom, pulled at Evie.  Clearly, a legacy from her grandmother who’d once kept a sprawling flower garden; a sanctuary for quiet reflection.  The place was as humble as any on earth teeming with flora that provided the same for bees, hummingbirds, and butterflies zooming in for a taste of sweet nectar.

Gram’s garden gave its best from when frost still powdered the ground until late autumn covered it with flaming leaves.  Evie believed her grandmother had found the secret to life itself buried deep in the soft black ground.

There’d been ample space and sunlight for things to grow at Gram’s house - unlike the city where Evie lived.  No place to grow a single flower in front of her brownstone where angled cracks only hinted at dirt below and even weeds had a difficult time breaking through.  Not inside her tiny dark apartment where the life-giving sunlight would have to traverse an impossibly long distance just to reach her filthy windows.

She’d tried that first year; when hope blossomed and the future seemed full of promise.  She’d purchased a clay pot of patio tomatoes guaranteed to produce plenty of juicy, scarlet fruit.  But lacking sufficient sunlight and fresh air, its green faded brown.  By summer’s end, the tomatoes had shriveled like raisins in the sun.

Evie tossed the plant and never brought home another. Instead, every spring, when the desire for life bloomed in her, she’d stop at the local florist and buy an armful of pink roses, red tulips, yellow daffodils, orange marigolds, and white carnations.

Tenderly, she’d carry the paper-wrapped bundle down the dingy subway stairs.  The subway platform could use a bit more art, a bit more flair, anything to lift commuters’ spirits.

Evie surveyed the familiar scene - people scurried by facing straight ahead – eyes as immobile as their faces – distant, anxious, exhausted.

She began handing out her beautiful stock one at a time to passersby, enjoying their surprise when she said “Enjoy the Spring.”  It was her way of acknowledging that spring comes as a “lullaby to newly opened ears and hearts.”

Spring reminds us that God makes everything new.  Soon leaves will fill the trees, flowers will burst in vibrant colors, and birds will chirp joyful melodies.  Every time we see the signs of a new season, we are witnessing God’s Words and Promises fulfilled.

Heavenly Father, help me to use this springtime to bloom in Your Shadow.  Let our petals grow and our leaves steadily extend to support others, as we celebrate Your glorious resurrection and the love You have for Your children.  Amen