Neither jelly nor fish

Did you know that spanish moss is neither spanish...nor moss? Similarly jellyfish are neither jelly...nor fish?

Both of these misnamed life forms proliferate in Hilton Head. One to our delight; one to our dismay. As we biked yesterday, Asherel noted,"The spanish moss is so beautiful."
This was not her response to the jellyfish some painful hours later.
I poured meat tenderizer over her jellyfish sting, and a few minutes later over Arvo's jellyfish sting.

Nontheless, I had noticed on an earlier bikeride how beautiful the jellyfish are too, splayed like saran wrap filled with designs on the seashore. Yet they are a trecherous beauty, as my unfortunate family discovered.

Meanwhile, Spanish moss is beauty without treachery, but many people think it kills the tree it grows on. Spanish moss is not like kudzu, however. The tree and moss, that is not moss, grow symbiotically together with no harm to the other.

Spanish moss have developed a unique way of eating. As water drips from the tree limbs and leaves, the spanish moss processes the minerals from the water, and eats that. It survives with a gentle, harmonious, peaceful mode of digestion.

On the other hand, we saw what jellyfish do to survive on our evening bike ride. The beach was littered with jellyfish, perhaps blown in by the approaching hurricane. I saw silver glinting off of one, and biked near to peer more closely. Inside the transparent blob was a small fish. I think it may have still been alive. Jellyfish are carnivores. They sting their prey with those gruesome tentacles, and then draw the paralyzed victim into their mouth and inside their open viewing digestive system. We biked a little further and saw another jellyfish with a fish inside it. It was like a snow globe of the beach...I had an image of shaking it and watching the fish swirl in its jelly tomb.

In the Bible, names are carefully chosen, and even sometimes changed to reflect the character that God wants to be revealed. I love the name change of Abraham's wife. She was Sarai, when he married her. Many Hebrew scholars feel the name change, derived from the same root, makes no sense. But, God always makes sense,if not now, in the future. I found one explanation compelling. The childless and barren Sarai, was renamed Sarah when God promised her she would bear Isaac, who would become the father of all nations. Sarai means "my princess", more personal and intimate than Sarah, which means "THE leader or princess." It is a distinction that prophesies the unique role of Sarah as the mother of the son who would become the progenitor of many nations.

But, like spanish moss and jellyfish, there is one notably "misnamed" Bible character. Lucifer, means "angel of light." Any one who knows the story is aware that Lucifer is no angel of light. However, Satan means adversary, derived from the hebrew noun which translates to obstructor. That sounds more appropriate. And as I thought about the fish in the jellyfish, I realized that is probably very much what hell is like. You are trapped forever in a place you can never escape, being slowly consumed in a hideous way, but you can still see the world around you, the one you have lost, the beautiful creation moments ago you were swimming in and took for granted.

"Don't you ever just nap on the beach?" My cousin asked me.
How could anyone nap when God is begging me to keep my eyes peeled for His revelations?

Genesis 17:15-17 NIV

God also said to Abraham, "As for Sarai your wife, you are no longer to call her Sarai; her name will be Sarah. I will bless her and will surely give you a son by her. I will bless her so that she will be the mother of nations; kings of peoples will come from her." Abraham fell facedown; he laughed and said to himself, "Will a son be born to a man a hundred years old? Will Sarah bear a child at the age of ninety?"

1 Timothy 1:15 NIV

Here is a trustworthy saying that deserves full acceptance: Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners—of whom I am the worst.

Published with Blogger-droid v1.7.4

Artistic Designs

"It is too flat and the head is too big," said Asherel.
"This is hard," I said,"I can't make it any bigger. I am using artistic license."
I paused and looked at my sand creature.
"No one will know what it is, will they?" I groaned.
"But you will, and isn't that why you do it?" said Asherel.
But then she continued to watch me and agreed. No one would know what it is.

"Wow," said a passerby,"That's great!"
"Do you know what it is?" I asked,brushing sand off my cheek.
"Uhh...some sort of animal. But a really well done one! What would I know? I'm a Jersey girl."
She walked on. I continued to shape my creation while Asherel smirked.

My sand creature took much longer to craft than usual. I struggled to make the back taller and rounder, the nostrils dilated (Not easy in sand), and the creases of the skin visible. Almost two hours later, it was nearing completion. A little girl, no more than 3 or 4 years old, came rushing over. Her father followed her.
"Oh, look Cindy, do you know what that is?"
She smiled and nodded with wide sweeping dips of her chin, her ponytails dancing against her shoulders.
"Well say it! It's an armadillo, isn't it!?" he said.
"Does it look like an armadillo?" I asked little Cindy.
She smiled widely at me and nodded, "Daddy, I want one."
"Oh I can't do that!" he said.
"Sure you can," I encouraged him.

He and Cindy headed a little ways off and sat down in the sand, making a pile that would be shaped into an animal. I grinned at Asherel.
"The three year old knew it was an armadillo," I said.

I thought how eerily similar to yesterday this little vignette of life was. Maybe my job for the week at the beach was to spurn moms and dads to build with their little ones, to come together finding joy in the recreation of God's glorious creatures. To find the creative urge in each of us in a communal endeavor.

I walked over as the man waved and said, "Well, we did it!"
It was a small creation, only about a foot long and a few inches tall.
"That is a wonderful armadillo!" I said to the little girl.
"It's a turtle," she said.
"Of course! It looks just like a turtle too!" I said, smiling at her.

Exodus 35:10, 31-34 NIV

"All who are skilled among you are to come and make everything the Lord has commanded: and he has filled him with the Spirit of God, with wisdom, with understanding, with knowledge and with all kinds of skills— to make artistic designs for work in gold, silver and bronze, to cut and set stones, to work in wood and to engage in all kinds of artistic crafts. And he has given both him and Oholiab son of Ahisamak, of the tribe of Dan, the ability to teach others.

Published with Blogger-droid v1.7.4

The Day of Small Things

The little boy had been standing near, silently watching me as I labored in the sand. The sand dog was slowly taking form, more slowly than our usual family sculptures since certain unnamed members of the family were relaxing at the beach, rather than helping.

It was ok. The sand sculptures are my beach activity. I love being at the ocean, but not of the ocean. There are too many biting, stinging, sliming, and frightening creatures in the ocean to make swimming a relaxing experience for me. It would not be a vacation then...it would be more like paramilitary training camp.

So I was making my sand sculpture, happily safe from the sharks, jellyfish, blowfish, sea urchins, and genetically altered poisonous sponges. The little boy had wandered over and not even said Hi. He just watched me with big brown eyes. It became clear if there was to be any interaction, I would have to initiate it.
"Hi, do you like to build sand things?"
He nodded.
"Can tell what this is?"
"A dog."
"Yep."
More silence. As I patted the sand carefully on the dog's head, he followed me and leaned in, watching me with a serious scowl. I moved to the front paw, and he moved with me. As I crouched near, he crouched near, behind me, peering under my arm as the sand dog took shape.
"Do you want to build a sand creature?"
"It looks hard," he said.
"It's not. I'll teach you. Come over here."
We walked a few feet from my dog."
"Ok, first what do you want to build? Choose something simple, like a clam shell."
He looked at me, his face blank.
"How about a crab? They're pretty easy."
He nodded.
"Ok, first you draw an outline on the sand."
I used my sand shovel and drew the outline of a crab. He watched with furowed brow, and nodded.
I wondered where the child's mother was, and why she was letting him talk with a stranger.
"Then you dig a trench outside the outline like this and pile the sand on the shape. Later you will patt that sand smooth and in shape like you saw me do with the dog. Do you have a sand shovel?"
He nodded, looking at the crab.
I went back to work on my dog and he stood still. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw his mother appear with two shovels.
"Would you like me to help you build an animal?"she asked.
He nodded smiling and they hurried over to their own space of sand several yards away.

I'd been reading with Asherel about missionaries who had gone to Africa risking their lives and heads bringing the gospel to cannibals. I have never felt called to leave my own country. But I do pray every time I leave the house that God would open my eyes to the world of suffering, loneliness, and need around me and that perhaps, I could be a blessing to someone.

It seems that God has not gifted me with an ability to do large things, to do great things. But He has taught me never to despise the day of small things.

I carved the name of my book in the sand by my sculpture and wrote also, "available at amazon.com" in careful sand script. You just never know what might be used of God, I thought, glancing at the mother and boy busily building a creature in the sand together.

Zechariah 4:10 NIV

"Who dares despise the day of small things, since the seven eyes of the Lord that range throughout the earth will rejoice when they see the chosen capstone in the hand of Zerubbabel?"

Published with Blogger-droid v1.7.4