Holding Onto Hope During Life’s Drizzles
Oh, the weather in Wales can be as unpredictable as my fibromyalgia! For the month of October, we are dog-sitting for some friends, which means there are two dogs underfoot, two dogs to feed, two dogs to walk, and two doggie schedules to work around. Well, today, Jason is working at the Community Luncheon Club, which leaves me on dog duty for the day. I had resigned to the fact that I was not likely going to get much accomplished, but I was leery about how and when to do our daily walk. That brings me to the Welsh weather.
The entire morning has been drizzly, so I knew it would likely be a wet walk. Still, I was hopeful.
Empty, But Not Really
Have you ever had one of those days when it feels like everyone is out to get you? I call them "Joseph days." You know, those days when your own siblings seem to be plotting your demise, stripping away your beautiful coat, and tossing you into a pit with no escape plan. Just me? Perhaps I’m being a bit dramatic, but I think we've all experienced our own version of Joseph's story.
Genesis 37 tells us that Joseph's brothers "took him, and cast him into a pit: and the pit was empty, there was no water in it" (verse 24). I've always found that description fascinating. The Bible specifically notes the emptiness of the pit. It was void, barren, and desolate…except for Joseph and God.
I wonder what Joseph thought as he sat in that dark hole. Did he cry out? Did he pound against the earthen walls?
The Choice
I recently found myself engrossed in a science fiction show that left me pondering some profound spiritual truths. The plot revolved around a desperate rescue mission to save inhabitants of a planet facing imminent destruction from a solar anomaly. The rescuers had a small shuttle that could only accommodate half the population per trip, initially believing they had time for two runs.
As the story unfolded, it became clear they could only make one trip. The planet's leader faced an impossible choice: who would live and who would die? Her solution was a lottery system, a completely random selection. This decision baffled the artificial intelligence that was aiding in the rescue, who argued for choosing those deemed most valuable to society—the scientists, leaders, and others considered "important."
Watching this scenario play out, I couldn't help but marvel at how differently God approaches humanity's salvation
Are You a Bummer Lamb?
I was watching an interview with Christian author Sheila Walsh the other day when she began talking about "bummer lambs." Having lived in rural Wales for a few years, I've learned quite a bit about sheep farming, but this particular term was new to me.
A bummer lamb, as it turns out, is a lamb that has been rejected by its mother. Sometimes, the ewe has twins and can only feed one. Sometimes, the mother dies during birth. And sometimes, for reasons only the sheep know, a mother simply refuses to accept her baby.
When this happens, the shepherd steps in. He takes the rejected lamb into his home and hand-feeds it. He keeps it warm by the fire, wraps it in blankets, and tends to its every need. The shepherd essentially becomes the lamb's parent, giving extraordinary care and attention to this tiny creature.
Beauty and Bands
As I mentioned before, with our upcoming ladies' meetings on the horizon, I've been knee-deep in fairy tale themes and decorations. I confess that even during my quiet time with the Lord this morning, my mind was still swirling with images of glass slippers and enchanted roses. So when I opened my Bible to Zechariah 11 and read about Beauty and Bands, I couldn't help but smile at God's sense of humor.
"And I took unto me two staves; the one I called Beauty, and the other I called Bands; and I fed the flock." (Zechariah 11:7)
Beauty and Bands. It immediately transported me to the beloved tale of Beauty and the Beast. You know the story—a beautiful young woman, a cursed prince, a magical rose, and the power of true love. But as I continued reading, I realized God wasn't telling me a fairy tale. He was revealing something far more profound.