A Plague of Frogs

"Elliot, what would you think if there were frogs everywhere?"  My wife Elaine asked him.  She was telling him about the plagues in Egypt before Pharaoh let the Israelites leave.

"I would love it!"  Elliot said.

"Well, what if the frogs were in your bedroom?"  Elaine asked, hoping, I guess, to convey the seriousness of this plague.

Elliot looked at her as though she was a little silly.   "Mom," he said.  "I love frogs.  I would love to have some in my bedroom."

At this point, Elaine gave up and moved on to something else.  It amused me, though, because although Elliot does love frogs, I think that having them all over the place would get old, even for him.  There is certainly a limit to the number of frogs he would enjoy having in his bedroom.

Of course, he is only five and can be forgiven if he doesn't always think through the consequences of his choices, but there are a lot of people much older than he is who choose paths -- knowing where they  lead -- and just believe that they will 'deal' with the consequences when they get there.

I have never heard of anyone choosing a path that lead to a plague of frogs, but there are plenty of other, far worse things that can result from decisions we might make. 

The problem, unfortunately, is not that we don't know what the consequences of our actions are, it is just that we think we can deal with them when they come.  The end of the path is clear and doesn't look great, but we believe that we will have enough fun on the way to make the consequences worthwhile.

In the end, the fun on the way is seldom as great as we think it will be and the reward at the end is far worse than we imagined.

The road most traveled often ends in disaster.

Worse even than a plague of frogs.

Okra

It came to pass that one day recently I sallied forth from my home and surveyed the remains of my garden.

In the midst of summer plenty, our garden was awash with fresh vegetables.  Green beans, zucchinis, and cucumbers seemed to pour from it in plenteous amounts.  Now, however, there were only some okra plants and a huge pumpkin vine that reached its arms, Trump-like, all over one corner of the garden.

That was all.

In the dusky light, I could see the okra plants, standing tall and straight as soldiers in two rows.  On the plants, I could still see the flowers blooming, even though Autumn was squeezing the rest of the garden into submission.

Okra is one of those plants, sent by God to make poor gardeners feel as though they have a little talent.  Even in years when the rest of the garden is a total disaster, it is not unusual to have a bumper crop of the green (often slimy) vegetable.

I can't say that okra is my favorite vegetable.  It probably isn't even in the top five.  I just have too many memories of okra salad on the third day (but I will say no more on that subject).  Yet, in the spring when I sit down to plan out the garden, I always get a package of okra seeds.  I am not planting it for myself,  I plant it because my wife and children like it and they are pleased while it is bearing.

I suppose that is one of the things I have learned in life.  I suppose when I was younger, I thought that it was important to do things that made me happy, but now I know that it is even more enjoyable to do things that make others happy.

The world doesn't revolve around me and  my happiness.  One of the things that gives me greatest satisfaction is to know that I have done something that pleased someone else -- without the  expectation of anything in return.

The Little Red Hen may have been happy while selfishly eating her bread by herself, but I am happier planting okra and sharing it with the people I love -- even if I prefer other vegetables.

Hurricane Matthew

Hurricane Matthew is bearing down on the east cost of the United States.  It is currently a Category 3 hurricane, which means it isn't the biggest hurricane ever, or likely to cause the kind of devastation that Hurricane Andrew or Katrina did in the past, but it is still really big and is bringing high winds and lots of rain. 

When Matthew comes to call, Floridians get just a little nervous...

Of course, we can follow the constant predictions about the exact path Matthew will take and where he will head back out into the Atlantic.  I suppose that those predictions make us feel a little more in control of the situation.  At the same time, there is a big difference between predicting a storm's path and actually controlling a hurricane.

Thirteen years ago, my wife and I were out driving on a day when we probably should have been at home in our basement.  I remember the slate gray, almost yellowish sky as we stopped at a traffic light and then suddenly, the wind began to whip up.

It must have been a tiny tornado that touched down at that intersection, because our vehicle was rocking back and forth with the wind.  Then, something hit our rear window and it exploded inward, exposing our ears to the roar of the wind.  The transformer on the pole beside us blew, sending a shower of sparks out in all directions.

Elaine cried out in that moment, "God, save us!"  Just that fast, the wind was gone, leaving behind two very shaken people to drive (a very noisy) trip back to Paoli.

We work very hard to give ourselves control over the events in life we face.  I am afraid that quite often that control is merely an illusion.  In our hearts, we know that things are way too big for our control.  Certainly the weather is beyond our control, but there are a lot of bigger and more serious things than that in life that we don't control either.

What then?

Two thousand years ago, a small group of men were rowing out on the Sea of Galilee.  It was a time before Doppler radar and GPS devices, a time long before out board motors and in the middle of their journey, a storm blew up.

Waves rocked the tiny vessel and the winds tugged at it.  In the boat, the men struggled on in a losing battle, realizing that at any moment their ship would capsize and they would all die.

It was in this moment that they turned to a man who was asleep in the middle of the ship.  His name was Jesus.  "Teacher,"  they shouted at him.  "Do you not care that we are perishing?"

I imagine that they hoped that he would help row, or bail water -- do any of the normal futile things humans in a tiny boat do when they are in danger.  He did none of those things.

Instead, in that moment, Jesus woke up and calmed the sea and rebuked the storm.

And all was still.

It is far better to know the One who is in control of every situation than to try to fool ourselves that we are in control.  It is even more sad that we usually wait for that crazy moment right before everything falls apart in chaos to cry out, "Jesus, save me!"

Even then, He is faithful and will do just that.

Far better to trust Him from the very beginning.