The Promise and the Gift

There’s something really special about the promise of a gift, isn’t there?  Especially when it’s something you’ve really been looking forward to. You know what I mean, right? The comforting assurance, the delicious anticipation… and then finally getting that (fill in the blank here) you’ve been waiting for.

But… what if that “getting” part is delayed a bit? There’s nothing so agonizing, is there, as that wait for something you know you’re going to get – but haven’t yet.

All I Wanted For Christmas

Back when I was a little kid there was a certain Christmas gift (a race-car set) I’d had my eye on. You remember what that’s like, right? Starting somewhere around, oh, mid-July, I casually mentioned it to my parents to make sure they knew exactly what I wanted. At least, er, 294 times a week.

Plus, practically once a week (OK, twice… or maybe three or four times) I made sure Mom or Dad found the toy catalog lying around the house, “accidentally” fallen open to the exact page detailing the object of my desire (and conveniently circled, of course). I’m tellin’ ya, when it came to covering all the bases, I left no stone unturned! I even arranged for a friend to mention, in their presence, how they were sure they were getting’ something similar.

I’m tellin’ ya; I was devious smart, I was!

A Promise Was a Promise

Finally, the impromptu marketing campaign bore fruit: my Mom, after enduring probably the umpteenth millionth carefully-arranged “hint”, finally broke down and said two words I’d been waiting to hear: “We’ll see.” I was ecstatic!

Now, you may be thinkin’ to yourself, but that didn’t sound all that reassuring, am I right? But when it came to official pronouncements from my parents, I knew from experience that “We’ll see” was code for “You got it!” My spirits lifted to stratospheric heights.

For the rest of the year, I made sure nothing happened to mess up my chances. I scrupulously performed all my chores (that’s my story and I’m stickin’ to it), ate all my vegetables (well, everything except the broccoli; no force on earth could make me do that), and made sure our cat and dog were clean, brushed, well-fed and had shiny teeth and fresh, minty breath. I’m tellin’ ya; I was the picture of a truly deserving fellow! And besides – a promise was a promise, right?

Was It Something I Did – or Didn’t Do?

The fateful Day crept closer and closer with all the swiftness of a runaway snail (you know how it always seems to take forever when you’re a kid), and once the Christmas tree was up I kept an eye out for one particular box. The days slipped by, but alas, it didn’t show.

Doubt crept in. Where was it? I wondered. Had my parents NOT bought it for me? Were they sold out? Or horror of horrors, had there been a strike at the plant and they no longer made ‘em? (It’s amazing what an overactive imagination can come up with, isn’t it?)

Christmas Eve arrived, and still – no box. I was crushed. And, although I did my best to hide it, that night as we opened our brightly-wrapped gifts, I have to admit to a sense of disappointment as my race-car set wasn’t there. I mean after all, they promised!

I know, I know; I should have been grateful for the gifts I did get. And don’t get me wrong; I was! After all, I had parents who loved me, actual gifts to call my own – I mean, by anyone’s measure I was truly rich! But still… as a kid, I couldn’t help but wonder if it was something I’d done, or forgotten to do. I remember thinking, Maybe I hadn’t been good enough.

One Last Gift

Later, after all the gifts had been opened, I put on my best face and thanked everyone for the gifts I did get. I had just given my parents a hug and was heading for bed when my Dad suddenly sat up and pointed over to a corner of the room, an innocent expression on his face. “Hey, what’s that over there?”

I turned and looked and, to my astonishment, there was a box in the corner that hadn’t been there before! (I know now my Dad sneaked it in while I wasn’t looking, but at the time, it was as if it had appeared by magic.) My little eyes got about as big as saucers as I disbelievingly stumbled over and picked it up. Sure enough; it was just what I’d wanted – the race-car set! To say my little heart was thrilled is a complete understatement.

In moments I forgot all those nagging self-doubts as I gleefully hugged my Mom and Dad, thanking them profusely for the one thing I’d wanted – and in the process, finding out that the shape of the world was, indeed, right.

The Best Gift of All

You know, when I read the Christmas story in the Bible (it’s in the book of Luke, chapters 1 and 2 if you’d like to read it for yourself), I often wonder if that’s just a tiny little bit how the Jews must have felt. I mean, over the course of thousands of years, they clung to a promise: the promise of a Savior, the Messiah. The promise had been given by God himself, sometimes directly, and sometimes through His prophets. And after all, a promise from God, well, that’s something you can pretty much take to the bank, right?

But as year after year passed by, they found themselves ending every year with a sigh and the same sad thought: Is Messiah here yet? No? Well, maybe next year…

The thing is, it’s so easy to forget one tiny little detail: in God’s eyes, timing is everything. The prophets, even as they joyfully proclaimed God’s promise to His people, understood that certain events had to fall into place first. But still, what seemed like a long delay caused even the most faithful of God’s chosen to wonder if, maybe, just maybe – they hadn’t been faithful enough.

And then one day a simple priest named Zacharias was given a remarkable message while serving in the Temple – his aged wife was having a son! And not just any son – but the forerunner of the Messiah! Not long afterwards, the angel Gabriel appeared to Mary and joyfully announced she would give birth to that very Messiah! At long last, the promise was being fulfilled: the promise and the Gift of God – the Messiah – was actually here!

Do you think his doubts, his fears and his worries about God’s promises quickly vanished -quickly replaced by complete and utter joy? I’d have to say… yes!

The Promise and the Gift

That all happened nearly 2,000 years ago, and the world has never been the same, y’know?

There’s still more promises waitin’, aren’t there? Especially my favorite one: His promise to return. Oh, I know; year after year passes, and I find myself saying, like the Jews did every year, “Maybe next year…” But I’m reminded of how Zacharias must have felt. His great hope, long delayed – well, it was discouraging, sure. But his hope wasn’t founded on just any promise – it was the promise of God Himself.

So next time you think about God’s promises, and how they may seem, at least to you, a bit delayed – try to imagine the joy that’s coming when His promise is finally fulfilled. I’ll tell ya; it’s gonna to be one spectacular party!

Have a wonderful and blessed Christmas, y’all!

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Last Spring, while eating lunch at a local restaurant, Mrs. MZM and I decided to partake of the nice weather and enjoy our meal on their beautiful, vine-covered patio. We chose a table next to one of the poles supporting the sunshade roof.

After settling in, I noticed this vine growing out of a pot next to us. It kinda caught my attention because of the way the thing seemed to coil around itself like a small, wooden boa constrictor. (Very spooky, eating next to this thing, I’ll tell ya. I kept an eye on it the whole time, just in case it suddenly took a liking to my bacon cheeseburger. Or, er, me.)

But still, it’s an interesting object, don’cha think? The way it spirals and coils around that branch as if tryin’ to choke the life out of it!

When I see something like this, I’m often reminded of a classic story from the Bible known as the Parable of the Sower.

The Parable of the Sower

Here’s how it reads in the Gospel of Matthew, chapter 3, verses 3-8: “A farmer went out to sow his seed. As he was scattering the seed, some fell along the path, and the birds came and ate it up. Some fell on rocky places, where it did not have much soil. It sprang up quickly, because the soil was shallow. But when the sun came up, the plants were scorched, and they withered because they had no root. Other seed fell among thorns, which grew up and choked the plants. Still other seed fell on good soil, where it produced a crop—a hundred, sixty or thirty times what was sown.”

See, back in those days, when a farmer planted his seed, he couldn’t just go out to the barn and fire up the ol’ John Deere, y’know. Nope, he had to go out and work his fields the old fashioned way, hitchin’ up the oxen (if he was rich enough to own a pair – or maybe renting ‘em from Mordecai’s Rent-an-Ox) to do the plowing. And, they spread the seeds by hand.

Naturally, the idea was to get as much seed into the good, well-prepared ground as possible. But as the story illustrated, along the edges of the fields some would inevitably fall on the well-packed paths where birds could easily make a meal of ‘em. Some fell among the stones and sprouted, but quickly died from the hot sun with no soil to give them nourishment. Some of the seed fell and even took root among the weeds and brambles that grew along the outside of the tilled areas, but any possible growth was choked by the strangling growth.

On the other hand, the seed that fell on good ground, well, it grew and produced like crazy: 30-, 60-, even a hundredfold! Now that’s some good seed!

I’ll tell ya; it’s a great analogy, even today. Like any good parable (which is a story with Spiritual significance), nearly all of the elements of this story are metaphors. Jesus had to clear it up a few verses later, explaining to his slightly befuddled Disciples the seed was God’s word, and the field was the human heart. The various places the seed fell are indicative of some of the obstacles to the goal of spreading the Word.

Thus, the “good ground” meant a heart ready to receive and understand His message – and enjoy the benefits thereof – while the hard, stony ground on the foot paths was like a heart that had “hardened” itself to God’s Word. Likewise, landing in weeds and thorns might allow the seed to sprout, but eventually they choked the life and vitality out of them anyway.

Is Something Chokin’ YOUR Life?

Anyway, like I said, this vine reminded me of that story, and got me to thinkin’. (I hate it when that happens; you never know where it might lead, y’know?) Was there anything in my own life, I wondered, causing the main thing to no longer be the main thing?

I mean, I’m full of good ideas, y’know? But what is it that keeps me from doin’ what I need to do to turn my dreams into reality? That’s the crux of the matter, wouldn’t ya say?

Now, needless to say, this is a somewhat personal battle, so don’t go expecting any details or anything. (Besides, if anything interesting turns up, it’ll probably come up anyway in a future post!) But the question is also a valid one for you too, don’cha think?

So what about it, y’all? Is there anything in your life that’s sorta strangling the life out of what you SHOULD be doing? Is it time to get the shears out and, like Indiana Jones clearing a path through the jungle, whack those choking vines away?

Food for thought?

NOTE: This is yet another entry in our current What I Learned From… project. The topic this month is the World of Plants, and there’s still time for you to join us, y’all; all you have to do is follow that link and read all about it. But you better hurry; it closes to entries Sunday night, August 9!

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Photo: Constrictor, by Robert Hruzek

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Can a tiny little bit of resentment really be all that bad? I mean, it’s so small, and that – well, let’s call it anger ’cause that’s what it really is – is just a lil’ tiny thing, ain’t it? Besides, sometimes holding a little anger in can be kinda delicious, can’t it?

But over the years I’ve come to realize that no matter how teeny tiny that anger starts out, it can still have an amazing grip on my heart. Here’s what I mean…

Lord of My Domain

There’s just something about owning your own home, you know? Please forgive me if I come across as all that, y’all. I dunno; maybe it’s a sortof “lord of your domain” kind of thing when you “own” a patch of God’s green Earth for yourself, y’know?

Anyhoo – I derive a certain satisfaction standing on my front porch, looking out over the small patch of land I owe so much money on own. Having performed this exercise more than a few times, I’ve gotten rather familiar with my own property. What’s more, it’s pretty easy to tell when there’s something not quite right. A disturbance in the force, perhaps? An object that didn’t belong?

Suddenly I spotted the offensive element – right at my feet! Oh, the horror! There in my front garden – right next to the walk where any visitor could see it – was a (sound of terrified scream) weed! Well, it really wasn’t all that big. In fact, it was only about 2 inches tall. But set against our dark brown mulch, the bright green leaves made it easy to see.

OK; now you’re probably thinkin’ to yourself, What the heck is the big deal? I mean, it’s only a weed, right? I mean, it’s not like it was a triffid or anything. And you’d be correct up to a point. After all, when you have a garden, finding a weed here and there is pretty much a given. (Find a triffid, on the other hand, and you’d better run for your life! Just sayin’.)

Anyway, I did what any self-respecting homeowner woulda done: I reached down to gently, er, rip the little booger outta the ground (you have to do it just right or you don’t get the roots out, you know), only to find… the darned thing wouldn’t budge! Harumph.

Now, that kinda surprised me, since this particular weed was so small. I mean, how deep could the roots be, anyway? And how strong? After all, I’m a big, giant man – and I’m ‘waaay stronger than any puny little ol’ weed! So I bent down, got a better grip on the weed’s stem, and started pulling, gently but firmly. With fairly steady pressure, it would eventually let go.

At first, nothing happened. Finally, I saw it slowly coming loose. The only thing was, a surprisingly large patch of the garden was coming up with it! My eyebrow lifted in a remarkable imitation of Mr. Spock, and I’m almost sure I heard the word, “Fascinating” in the whisper of the breeze.

Sheesh, I thought, what’s this thing wrapped around? Those dang roots must be down somewhere near China! I had visions of unearthing a misplaced treasure chest filled with lost pirate’s gold or something. And now I had to pull that out along with the offending weed.

Finally, I got it completely out of the ground, and was rewarded with my Catch of the Day: a two-inch weed attached to a big clump of dirt – and a four-inch piece of wood! I’m tellin’ ya; that weed wasn’t gonna give up without a fight!

Anyway, having come out the victor in this particular battle of wills, I sneered in my best Jimmy Cagney impression, “Nyah; thought ya had me, ya little weasel! But I showed ya who was boss here, didn’t I! Nyah!” (Hey, sometimes I gotta be my own entertainment.)

Needless to say, that little weed never stood a chance against someone as big as me (not that I’m, er, big, mind you!) But what surprised me was the way the roots of that little guy managed to get such a good grip on that piece of wood – not to mention the sizable clump of dirt it brought out with it.

The thing is, roots can be like that, can’t they? They work their way into the tiniest of crevices in dirt, rocks or whatever, and can be heck to completely get out. And wow, they can have quite the deathgrip, if you know what I mean.

The Root of Bitterness

There’s an interesting statement in the Bible (actually, it’s in Hebrews, chapter 12, verse 15, if you care to look it up) that uses a word-picture combination that has always stuck with me. Here’s the verse:

See to it that no one comes short of the grace of God; that no root of bitterness springing up causes trouble, and by it many be defiled…

… and the words of interest are right there in the middle: root of bitterness.

What’s a root of bitterness, you may ask? Well, it’s a fair question. A root of bitterness is what the writer of Hebrews calls that little, angry, resentful feeling you get when you don’t like bein’ disciplined for your own good.

Remember when you were a little kid, and you did something stupid, or wrong, or mean? Chances are good that your parents, or your teacher (or hopefully someone appropriate) laid some discipline on ya, right? It happens all the time, even when we’re grown up, too.

Everywhere we turn, life, the universe, and everything tends to discipline us when we do stuff that’s out of line, doesn’t it? Oh, it might not be right away. I mean, you may think you’re getting away with it. But I’m tellin’ ya; sooner or later, she all comes home to roost, if you get my meanin’.

Here’s where the rubber meets the road, though. If you’re still teachable (hopefully that includes you!), then that discipline actually serves to make you a better person. But if you’re not… well, you may just end up a bitter, angry person. Hey, you know it’s true, right?

I find the choice of those particular words “root of bitterness” fascinating, don’t you? It describes perfectly what’s happening down inside your heart. Even the tiniest bit of anger, just like that tiny little weed, can get quite a grip on the fabric of your soul. Once there, it can be pretty tough to root out, y’know?

What to do? Well, it’s pretty simple, really. Just deal with whatever the situation is that caused the anger. And whatever you do – don’t  let it fester or it’ll get worse! Roots have a way of growin’ deep when you ignore ‘em. I’m just sayin.

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Photo: Tiny weed, by bishib70

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