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| This coneflower is thriving... |
I’d planted them next to the garage, thinking they’d look better than those white rocks I’m slowly removing, piling in the driveway, and listing “Free” on craigslist. But while the daisies and bee balm are doing well there (along with a bush thing that just won’t die), the coneflowers grew only smallish leaves and few flowers, unlike the one at the top of the page.
If I was going to offer an analogy, I’d talk about the things that seem nice… until we get to know them close up. As a youth I liked the rabbits in our yard and didn’t understand all the fuss when a small one got in the garden. How much could they eat?
Like those cute rodents, we will let something into our lives – the gas-guzzling vehicle we wish we’d left on the lot, a friend or partner who leaves us cursing our rose-colored glasses, that lovely plant that proceeds to take over the yard. Some things we can put up with. We can adapt. We grow as we learn life lessons. Sometimes more drastic measures are needed. Porcelain vine and dame’s rocket both look nice, yet they’re pernicious weeds, illegal for transit or sale some places. Sometimes, the best thing may be to grab a shovel and remove the offender.
Closer to home, I ended my marriage. I’d read that one person can make it work, usually in “Christian” self-help books. I believed, maybe because I wanted to believe. For 25 years, I tried. And each time I failed, I called myself every sort of name. Finally, I accepted this was something I would no longer live with. We brought out the worst in each other. The stress was making me sick. I wanted my daughter to have a better example – of a strong woman, one who believed she deserved a joy-filled life and would work to make that happen. So I ended it.
I practice joy. I laugh.
I’m sharing this only to reach out to… anyone who’s in a similar place. Maybe it’s your relationship with your brother or a friend. Maybe it’s a job that, though once fulfilling, now leaves you cold. I think on those old Smoky Bear ads, “Only you can prevent forest fires.”
Only you can make the change you might need to make.
And I remember how, week after week, we used to sing in church:
When things are difficult, trust in that. And act!
If I was going to offer an analogy, I’d talk about the things that seem nice… until we get to know them close up. As a youth I liked the rabbits in our yard and didn’t understand all the fuss when a small one got in the garden. How much could they eat?
Like those cute rodents, we will let something into our lives – the gas-guzzling vehicle we wish we’d left on the lot, a friend or partner who leaves us cursing our rose-colored glasses, that lovely plant that proceeds to take over the yard. Some things we can put up with. We can adapt. We grow as we learn life lessons. Sometimes more drastic measures are needed. Porcelain vine and dame’s rocket both look nice, yet they’re pernicious weeds, illegal for transit or sale some places. Sometimes, the best thing may be to grab a shovel and remove the offender.
Closer to home, I ended my marriage. I’d read that one person can make it work, usually in “Christian” self-help books. I believed, maybe because I wanted to believe. For 25 years, I tried. And each time I failed, I called myself every sort of name. Finally, I accepted this was something I would no longer live with. We brought out the worst in each other. The stress was making me sick. I wanted my daughter to have a better example – of a strong woman, one who believed she deserved a joy-filled life and would work to make that happen. So I ended it.
I practice joy. I laugh.
I’m sharing this only to reach out to… anyone who’s in a similar place. Maybe it’s your relationship with your brother or a friend. Maybe it’s a job that, though once fulfilling, now leaves you cold. I think on those old Smoky Bear ads, “Only you can prevent forest fires.”
Only you can make the change you might need to make.
And I remember how, week after week, we used to sing in church:
“You shall go out with joy and be let forth with peace,
The mountains and the hills will break forth before you.
There'll be shouts of joy and the trees of the fields
will clap, will clap their hands."
Isaiah 55:12 in "Trees of the Field" in The Faith We Sing, 2279
I’m sure the prophet had another topic in mind. Yet, God does want joy for us.
When things are difficult, trust in that. And act!
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