When the Puzzle Is Hard to Put Together

If only the pieces of our little world could quickly fall into place all the time. 

But usually there is this odd assortment of work and play, joy and pain, tears and laughter,

rain and sunshine.

 We all know that really life is comprised of dark and light colors, 

and that if the sun shone all the time, there wouldn't be any flowers.

 But we can't help sorting out the bright rays of sunshine first, and making sense of those.

 And any pieces that have words on them.

Those are easy to put together. 

Just being able to put something into words helps us sort some clarity out of the confusion.

 It would sure be nice if all our days were sunny and bright like "October's Bright Blue Weather,"

and we could spend all day at the park,

 swinging with cousins and friends,

laughing and joking and seeing who can swing the highest.

 It would be nice if life was just a picnic.

and trees were always arrayed in bright autumn colors...

 instead of all those blue times we end up struggling through.

 It would be nice if trees always grew together in woods and forests

instead of sometimes having to go it alone in some sort of gully out on the prairie.

 

It would be nice if everyone always worked nicely together and took responsibility for themselves and their own decisions and actions and reactions,

 their own piles of leaves, their own rakes, their own messes and mistakes,

 instead of piling all their leaves and mess and all the blame and guilt on the other person every time something goes wrong.

And it would sure be nice if moms always washed the dirty laundry and put away all the clothes and cooked all the meals and sewed on all the buttons that fall off,

and rescued us every time we got into a problem instead of expecting us to learn 

to be responsible for ourselves and to sew our own buttons 

back on when they fall off.

  

 It would sure be nice if all those people who are supposed to play hand bells borrowed from a friend of the church, who is willing to help us learn how to get started with bell playing,

would all play the right notes,

at the right time,

much less know how to swing their bell right.

It would be nice if everything fit snugly into our little box.

 

And it would sure  be nice if that old serpent didn't come slithering around on a daily

and sometimes hourly basis.

Yes, if we had our way, life's puzzle would definitely only have the bright flowers in it.

but would it be a whole puzzle?
Wholeness comes from adding in the dark colors,
and all the difficult and mysterious pieces,
put together laboriously, and patiently,
one piece at a time--
till the whole is a perfect masterpiece
in the Master's hand.
 

When You Think You Have Made a Terrible Mistake

Almost twenty-one years ago,

a young lady who was a missionary in Ukraine made a terrible mistake.

At least that is what she was told.

A young man named Jonathan Lucas had written her a letter wishing to be friends, and she had written him back accepting his overture--and never received a response.

Now it was two months later and the lonely and anxious young lady decided that perhaps her letter had been lost in the Ukrainian mail system, so she wrote him again.

Another young man and another young lady let her know that she should have just waited. Perhaps a letter from the young man was just around the corner, and she would be soooo embarrassed that she had appeared to be chasing him! They knew this young lady only too well.

Of course, nobody knew exactly what had happened or why there was no reply from this young man from Colorado. 

And the young lady went out that night on the dark streets of Kiev, and she walked and walked in a great agony--because as usual she had just made another stupid, idiotic, horrible mistake.

She had just chased a poor, lonely young man from Colorado who had decided he did not want her after all. She had sent this second letter--which proved she had been boy crazy and a chaser and a total idiot.  And of course, Jonathan did not want her.  Something in her first letter had turned him off and she should never have taken the chance to send him another letter.

It was just another of all the series of horrible mistakes in her life.

 Unaware of it not being exactly kosher to be walking the streets of Kiev in the darkness, the young lady finally returned to her apartment and went to her writing desk, where she pulled out paper and pen. And she wrote, 

"Trust Me," said God.

"Yes, Lord," said I.

"I'll trust You with my heart.

Tis my reply."

"Trust Me for more," said God.

"Yes, Lord," I said.

"I trust You with my life. Not mine,

It's Yours instead."

 "Trust Me for more," said God.

I said in prayer,

"I'll come to You and trust You

With my care."

 "Trust Me for more," said God.

"But there's no more," said I,

"Besides my heart and life and cares."

Came gently His reply,

"Can You trust Me, child Mine own,

With your worst heartaches?

Can You trust Me with your own

Foolish mistakes?"

 "Can I trust You, O my God,

Even with such?

Is it not, O gracious God,

Asking too much?"

 "Too much?" God Himself bent down,

Whispered low this word:

"Can you ever trust too much?"

Was what I heard.

*********************

And the biggest mistake of my life turned out to have been the right thing to do.

Jonathan had never received my first letter. It had indeed been lost in the mail. He had indeed been just as lonely and anxious as I had been--and he was overjoyed when he received my second letter.

And so today as I was looking for another poem, this one again stood out to me. I have read it many times, when I am suffering over something that I think has been a mistake.

And I have remembered over and over, that sometimes what seems to have turned out to be a mistake

based on the opinions or reactions of others,

may not be at all a mistake in the sight of God and in the reality of truth.

It may, in fact, turn out to be the best thing you ever did.

Just because someone else scorns what you did or are doing,

just because they react badly to what you did or said,

doesn't necessarily mean it is a big, bad mistake as they would like you and others to believe.

God is the One Who knows hearts.

And He is the One we can trust with our most foolish "mistakes."

"Save the Earthworms!"

The title, "Save the Earthworms!" in the last newsletter from Christian Aid Ministries

caught my attention. I read that in Haiti, farmers have routinely killed earthworms

because they think they are ugly.

So Christian farmers from America are going down and teaching the Haitians better farming methods--including understanding that bacteria and fungi and earthworms are beneficial to the soil,

and why to save the earthworms alive!

And I've  thought a lot about that--why worms are actually beneficial when they are ugly and gross.

And you have to admit, there are some people that just are ugly or miserable or unkempt or an emotional mess or a mental case or a fool or keep doing dumb things and causing trouble or --

any number of things that make it hard to like them. 

There are a lot of people that other people would just sort of like to get rid of

from their church, their workplace, their extended family, their school, their household.
To just chop that stupid, ugly, gross earthworm in two because we don't like it.

And there are more than one way to chop a weak person in two.

Not everyone is a mighty hunter like Nimrod before the Lord.

Or a nobleman who has never had a stain on his reputation.

Or a mighty man of valor who never shed an unnecessary tear in his life.

*** 

And so when my hubby and oldest son had left to go hunting, that evening I sat down and reached for my Bible.

 I wanted to read again the passage that the children just started memorizing, where it talks about the kind of people God chooses. 

And the kind He doesn't.

"Not many wise according to the flesh, not many mighty, not many noble are called."

 I watched the autumn sunshine pour through the leaves of the trees at a cemetery near our church as I waited for the children who were in Bible Club last week. 

And there were a lot of people buried in that cemetery. I looked to see if there were a gravestone yet of a friend who had been buried there. There was no gravestone yet, but his memory lingers

as a man who was not unusually wise or mighty or noble--

just humble and helpful and a quiet Christian.

Because "God has chosen the foolish things of the world to put to shame the wise,

and God has chosen the weak things of the world to put to shame the things which are mighty."

 My mind has often lingered there in that passage, because I could relate to being foolish and weak.

 But it is the foolish and the weak that God chooses.

 The glory isn't in the being foolish or weak, 

but that God chooses the foolish and the weak 

and that means He chooses me.

 And so a beautiful light shines in the darkness of feeling like a weakling and a fool and often a failure.

 Because "the base things of the world and the things which are despised God has chosen, and the things which are not, to bring to nothing the things that are."

When we are despised by others--God chooses us.
And when we despise others, God chooses them.

When we are weak fools, He chooses us.
And when others are weak fools, He chooses them.

When we are worms of the dirt--God chooses for us to have a part in His plan.

And so, just because God chooses the poor and the weak and the despised,

we who want to walk in His footsteps ought to also value 

the poor, the weak, and the despised.

When someone is being chopped to pieces, we ought to reach out and stay the shovel.

When someone is being cut down, we need to stand up for them. 

When we meet another weak person, just like us, we ought to give them a helping hand

and a shoulder to cry on.

Because we are all just that--worms together, bits of nothing.

And all the glory belongs to God!

Mushrooms, Kohlrabi, Kale, Turnips and Other Semi-Gross Things

The other day, when I told Jonathan that we had a surprise to tell him and the boys when they got home, he told me he was bringing a surprise home, too!

Our surprise for the guys was the girls' sale of ten young hens, at a good price plus a few dollars extra from the happy buyer for good measure to the children.

Jonathan's surprise was three Shaggy Mane mushrooms, which he had picked by a sidewalk.

We looked up the details in our mushroom book, and discovered the name was Shaggy Mane, due to the shaggy look of this hollow-stemmed mushroom. It said they basically digest themselves within hours of picking them, so you need to prepare them promptly before they disintegrate into black ink (which one old one did). They may be sauteed after slicing them in half, so that is what we did with the two young mushrooms. Jonathan ate one half of one right away, and saved the rest for breakfast.

 I ate one half of one with my eggs. 

I have to admit, it was a little--shall we say--different. But after eating many other mushrooms, soggy and slimy, this one was quite edible. 

However, I have to admit, a piece of apple pie sounds more appealing.

You'd eat apple pie any day over purple-skinned kohlrabi and mushrooms and turnips, 

but God doesn't just dish apple pies out to His children all the time.

It's not all cookies and candy from a doting heavenly grandparent.

Much as we'd like to focus on the heavenly promises, they come with a price.

"If you want to follow Me,

and obtain the promises,

you must deny yourself and take up your cross."

Sometimes what is set before us is carrot sticks and slices of kohlrabi.

And stew with turnips, yellow squash and kale mixed in.

We were talking about Corrie ten Boom in prison, learning to give thanks for fleas, and having to eat turnip stew--and thought we ought to try some turnip stew ourselves. It would be good for us to have a taste of turnip--especially since the children grew some in their gardens.

Well, we'd like to push the bowl back where it came from--

and tell God, "No, thanks! Please give me apple pie."

 But its amazing, how a little ranch dressing can make the kohlrabi slices delicious.

And how a little salt and pepper can help out the turnip stew--

till the whole pot is eaten up in two meals by those whose hunger has not been ruined by cookies and candy.

And it's amazing how a little thankfulness can transform the lesser-loved situations and people in our lives,

and how a little grace can make a situation bearable.

 We'd all like to curl up and snooze in a life of pleasure and ease.

 But sometimes the gift that God gives is not wrapped in pink rose wrapper, but in thorns.

When we can say thank you for the thorns as well as roses,

for the turnips and shaggy mane mushrooms, 

for the squash and the kale

as well as the apple pie, 

maybe we will have gotten somewhere with God.