If a slower pace of life doesn't turn me into a green thumb, it will at least make the most of my free time.
IN all my leisure, the weeds of Middle East University have caught my attention. It's not that I need time to notice a weed; I've spent years harboring the obsessive-compulsive behavior of never entering the Village Adventist Church in Berrien Springs without at least one handful of weeds. Even on a mid-summer Sabbath morning. It was an act of service.
Middle East University has unwittingly hired on the same service and given me a great deal of fulfillment.
When I'm on my early morning walk and think no one's looking, I dive for the thickest, most gnarled thistle mocking me from under a bush or wall, hiding by a fence, or standing crassly in the middle of the campus lawn. Facts are, the university maintains some naturally lovely grounds that are the envy of the neighborhood--and that have been graciously offered for their enjoyment. Sabtieh Hill residents are free to use the parking lot for laps, the tennis and basketball courts, the soccer field or children's playground. And the grounds are well kept.
So whatever I do is only incidental and for my own pleasure, including helping out the gentleman that's hired to keep the grounds free of empty water bottles, candy bar wrappers and the classic tissues that are used here in place of napkins, paper towels, hand towels and handkerchiefs. The local folk I meet in the process seem genuinely appreciative, especially when I tell them this is what I did on our dirt road in Michigan on Sunday mornings after the beer parties in the woods. I like to own my own quirks.
But because I have pretty much collected at least a full season of trash from a few of the unseen corners of the campus and filled a few dozen trash bags, I'm now left focusing on the weeds. It's a conflicting option, though.
Lebanon's best weeds produce beautiful flowers. They're not the kind you want to pull. So one day I took a camera on my morning walk instead of a trash bag. We're at the end of spring here and the warm days have coaxed up miniature beauty in the most unsuspecting places. I suspect a few are leftovers of someone's long-ago garden gone wild.
An overgrown ditch can be a small garden. A drain pipe can spill out a trail of miniature blue jewels. A wild vine might weave itself through a tree and add its rich, orange flowers among its branches. And the rocky site around the little villa where I'm waiting to live is cluttered with splinters of building tiles--and delicate, yellow wild flowers. Even the vine eeking an existence out of the dirt in a rain gutter offers miniature blue flowers. I'm pretty sure they're cousins to Forget-Me-Nots.
These glorious spring weeds may not last the blistering, dusty summer. But the statement is enough: A weed can be beautiful. Even though some of them are nearly microscopic, often hidden and temporary, they still add to my climb up through the pines to our temporary home, or my walk down to work, or my early morning jaunt around the campus.
They remind me to be careful of the value I place on weeds...and people.
The unruliness I detect in someone's life may be the very opposite of the beauty God is nurturing. The dysfunction that I might want to straighten out may really be an essential step in the growing process. I don't want to uproot what God is doing. If I pull it out, no one will ever see the bloom. Everyone will miss His handiwork.
But as far as picking up trash and pulling weeds, I think I'll still stuff my jeans pocket with empty plastic grocery bags when I head out for my morning walk. But I'll leave the people-work completely up to God.
P S Evidently my trashy past-time is not real secret; someone just gifted me with a package of disposable gloves.
IN all my leisure, the weeds of Middle East University have caught my attention. It's not that I need time to notice a weed; I've spent years harboring the obsessive-compulsive behavior of never entering the Village Adventist Church in Berrien Springs without at least one handful of weeds. Even on a mid-summer Sabbath morning. It was an act of service.
Middle East University has unwittingly hired on the same service and given me a great deal of fulfillment.
When I'm on my early morning walk and think no one's looking, I dive for the thickest, most gnarled thistle mocking me from under a bush or wall, hiding by a fence, or standing crassly in the middle of the campus lawn. Facts are, the university maintains some naturally lovely grounds that are the envy of the neighborhood--and that have been graciously offered for their enjoyment. Sabtieh Hill residents are free to use the parking lot for laps, the tennis and basketball courts, the soccer field or children's playground. And the grounds are well kept.
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| A stand of wild beauty breaks the boredom a field of dry grass |
But because I have pretty much collected at least a full season of trash from a few of the unseen corners of the campus and filled a few dozen trash bags, I'm now left focusing on the weeds. It's a conflicting option, though.
Lebanon's best weeds produce beautiful flowers. They're not the kind you want to pull. So one day I took a camera on my morning walk instead of a trash bag. We're at the end of spring here and the warm days have coaxed up miniature beauty in the most unsuspecting places. I suspect a few are leftovers of someone's long-ago garden gone wild.
An overgrown ditch can be a small garden. A drain pipe can spill out a trail of miniature blue jewels. A wild vine might weave itself through a tree and add its rich, orange flowers among its branches. And the rocky site around the little villa where I'm waiting to live is cluttered with splinters of building tiles--and delicate, yellow wild flowers. Even the vine eeking an existence out of the dirt in a rain gutter offers miniature blue flowers. I'm pretty sure they're cousins to Forget-Me-Nots.
 |
| A whole bouquet thrives among the construction debris of our little villa |
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| Unruly but dainty color trims a garden wall |
They remind me to be careful of the value I place on weeds...and people.
The unruliness I detect in someone's life may be the very opposite of the beauty God is nurturing. The dysfunction that I might want to straighten out may really be an essential step in the growing process. I don't want to uproot what God is doing. If I pull it out, no one will ever see the bloom. Everyone will miss His handiwork.
But as far as picking up trash and pulling weeds, I think I'll still stuff my jeans pocket with empty plastic grocery bags when I head out for my morning walk. But I'll leave the people-work completely up to God.
 |
| A garden of hundreds like this bloom along the stairs down to the campus |
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| I can let these weeds be--at least until summer. |
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| Too bright to hide |
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| A poignant reminder of a generation who had to leave their flowers to the war...untamed and uncared for. But beauty still grows inspite of it all. |
P S Evidently my trashy past-time is not real secret; someone just gifted me with a package of disposable gloves.
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