My latest carving project is this little hummingbird pictured above. It gets smaller as I carve it down to what I believe it to be the actual size of these special birds. We have a trumpet vine that is draped around our arbor and after almost getting skewered by one of the little speed demons at about dawn this morning, I got to thinking, which has proven lately to be a dangerous event. Make no mistake about it, these tiny dudes and dudettes, weighing about the same amount of a penny, are serious!
So yesterday, I pulled up a stool, grabbed the floor mic at the East Acres Baptist Church, on the day that the Lord had made, and proclaimed the word. I would dare say that Jesus neither used a stool nor floor mike. I am sure however that in some form or fashion he did have a story regarding brokenness; broken families, broken religion, broken lives, and broken beliefs. He talked about a seed one day, a tiny seed that by itself, had not a bit of significance. But put a little manure in there with that speck of a seed and a little soil and maybe a rotten fish or two, and there, right there, maybe something would take root and sprout and grow and become a plant of significance and purpose.
I am not sure anything related to my own journey with pain is small or worthwhile in a vacuum. Leave it alone and it will pretty near eat a person alive! You talk to any of us out here where this stuff “aggrabates”(Allies word when she was little and Jonathan was bugging her) us and it starts to sound like a broken record. Try to find something that helps, and guess what, it doesn’t and understanding for our situation becomes fuzzy, a stress of where it all ends or how, creating the fear of the unknown, sadness, financial worry, oh wow, it goes on and on.
None of us though can pick and choose or should I say, should pick and choose what parts of the bible we hold on to or believe more strongly than other parts, than we can pick and choose the stuff that will beset our very circumstances. We think we have control but alas, we really don’t! All of us. Healthy and unhealthy, we are far more similar than different, no matter what you may think. Which makes this whole concept of a tiny little mustard seed quite unique. A mustard seed is as close to nothing as a little germ or a flea. You have to squint your eyes to even see it. Heck, I would just about go plum blind trying to see the little bits, like it will be when I put eyes in this little hummingbird carving. But that seed IS there. Right there in front of your eyes only one almost needs a magnifying glass to see it, like I am using with my little hummer!
I don’t fully understand a lot; heck, probably very little and certainly almost nothing about my own predicament. As I preached the word yesterday, sitting on a stool, massaging my legs because lord knows they were sure hurting, I kept thinking as I spoke; Can my small words, words that echo in the chambers of people who suffer, make a difference, even while I sit here and suffer? Can, in the midst of this difficulty, I grasp something worth grasping, in the life giving event of associating with others who hurt, even, yea, while I am hurting myself? Can I embrace a tiny seed of hope and plant it somewhere, somewhere with some people who they too yet struggle and hurt and rub their own legs while doing whatever they have to? I would just as soon not. I would. Put me back in coach, I am ready to play today! But it’s not happening. It is only a seed.