Cardboard Testimonies

And now for something completely different

Tonight’s blog features pictures of the frogs in my yard. Be forewarned that these are mature froggy-pictures. The long story short of these pictures is that I found Scooter-the-wonder-schnauzer in the backyard tonight doing an awful lot of circling and barking about what appeared to be nothing… but turned out to be these frogs. Since I’d never seen this precise phenomenon before, and the frogs were being so photogenic, I thought I’d share:

 

 Not that Scooter and I were the only ones interested in this phenomena… there was also a peeping-tom frog watching from the pond:

But he swam away after being photographed:

For what it’s worth, the two main characters were apparently unbothered by the barking, the pawing, and the flashing. No frogs were harmed in the making of these pictures.  

Justus Quidem tu es, Domine

Justus quidem tu es, Domine, si disputem tecum; verumtamen justa loquar ad te: quare via impiorum prosperator?

 

Thou art indeed just, Lord, if I contend

With thee; but sir, so what I plead is just.

Why do sinners’ ways prosper? and why must

Dissapointment all I endeavor end?

 

Wert thou my enemy, O thou my friend,

How wouldst thou worse, I wonder, than thou dost

Defeat, thwart me? Oh, the sots and thralls of lust

Do in spare hours more thrive than I that spend,

 

Sir, life upon thy cause. See, banks and brakes

Now Leaved how thick! laced they are again

With fretty chervil, look, and fresh wind shakes

 

Them; birds build– but not I build; no, but strain,

Time’s eunuch, and not breed one work that wakes.

Mine, O thou Lord of life, send my roots rain.

 

- GMH.

(And me. Sometimes, someone else has just already said something so throughly, there’s no sense in trying to add to it. This is the place I’m at tonight, and there’s some comfort to be had in knowing that 100 years ago someone else was at this same place. There really is nothing new under the sun.)

Small (or not-so-small) Graces

I’m still cleaning up after our December ice storm… it’s an amazingly long process. One of my biggest unresolved problems has been a rather large chunk-o-tree that made its new home on top of my house, big enough that it would take more than my three-person cleanup crew to get it down… and we tried. So it’s been sitting up there on top of my house, waiting on me to hire someone with a truck, a bucket, and a rather lot of large men to remove it.

Well, it finally came down this week. Not because of anything I did, but because my electrician stopped by to do some more work on my electric box now that all the bricks were back where they were supposed to be and had his team take it down. That, in and of itself, was a blessing to me. I walked around for two or three days being thoroughly happy about my tree-free roof, and the fact that there are still good Samaritans in the world to do things like that… and that on top of all that, there weren’t even any holes left from the tree. The grace of God… seen through an electrician removing a tree… seen through a tree falling on my house. Isn’t it funny how God has a way of doing things like that? Things in my life that seem like a bad deal too often end up being showcases for him, for his grace or goodness or mercy or providence. Funny  how that works sometimes…

I want to have the faith to be able to see God working when the tree hits my house.

And not just after its gone.

And there was light.

In the beginning, God created… and God said “Let there be light. And there was light.”

I think sometimes we forget how vital and life-sustaining light is. I know I do. Our society is one in which light is readily available… my bedroom, for example, contains an overhead light (4 lightbulbs), 4 lamps, and at least 2 flashlights at all times. I can fill the room with light without any appreciable effort on my part… and I have a tendency to take for granted those things that don’t require much thought or effort. Thanks to Oklahoma’s recent catastrophic ice storm, I spent 9 days without power over the last week and a half. No light, save the inconsequential flashlights and later the floodlights of police helicopters patroling for looters. No light in my house, no light on my street, and no light in my city. My day began to revolve around the light… more or less ending when the light ended. The world was cold and dark, and I was anxious for the sun to rise in the morning. And as I drove from house to house checking on the families I work with, I began to appreciate the light. Over those 9 days, I began to read the Biblical passages on light in a new way.

And God said, “Let there be light. And there was light.”

Have you ever thought about how amazing that is? What the light must have been like, cutting through the primordial darkness? What the world’s first glimpse of light looked like? And then Jesus, being the light, shining in the darkness and the darkness not understanding. Christians, being lights.

 In the beginning was the word, and the word was with God, and the word was God. He was in the beginning with God. Through him, all things were created, and without him nothing was made which has been made. In him was life, and that life was the light of men.

There is a starkness in the difference between light and dark. Instantly noticable. Unmistakable. There is no confusing the two. In Christ, there is life… a life that is light to the world. As we enter winter, with short dark days and cold nights, let us remember our source of light and life.

During the power outage, many of those who regained power before their friends, neighbors, or family stepped out to share: a warm bed, a warm meal, or even an extension cord. The message, from many, was “I have light. You can come here.” In the most basic sense, that’s what we’re called to do as followers of the light… to share the light we have so others can benefit from it. Love the light. Share the light. Be the light.