For everything there is a season, a time for every activity under heaven. A time to be born and a time to die. A time to plant and a time to harvest. A time to kill and a time to heal. A time to tear down and a time to build up. A time to cry and a time to laugh. A time to grieve and a time to dance. [Ecclesiastes 3:1-4 (NLT)]
We enjoy walking in the local Botanical Garden as well as the nearby Corkscrew Swamp. Although both offer plenty of photo ops and pleasant strolls in God’s creation, the Garden offers more color and variety than a swamp any day. Nevertheless, as much as I enjoy the Garden’s beauty and serenity, I feel more at home in the swamp.
While the Botanical Garden always has an abundance of showy colorful orchids, the swamp’s “super ghost orchid” has blossoms for only a few weeks each year. Even then, you need binoculars or a spotting scope to view its delicate (and not very impressive) flowers. At various times of the year, the swamp has wildflowers like blue flag iris, morning glories, and string lilies but they pale in comparison to the variety of exotic flora found in the Garden all year long. If the swamp’s flowers were in a beauty contest with the Garden’s flamboyant blooms like the passion flower or flaming glory bower, they’d easily lose.
Carefully designed by world-famous landscape architects and impeccably maintained by staff and volunteers, the Botanical Garden speaks of order, design, and perfection; nothing ever seems amiss. The Garden’s plants are beautifully pruned, fertilized, and fussed over. Weeds are quickly pulled and, should a plant wither or die, a lovely new one quickly replaces it.
In contrast, the swamp, with no apparent plan to its layout or plants, is a hodgepodge of flora, fauna, and water that changes almost daily. Completely dependent on rain for its existence, its animals and plants are left to the whims of the weather and Mother Nature. No one pulls the weeds, deadheads the flowers, shapes the trees, or brushes away dead leaves. Lightening and hurricanes take a heavy toll on the swamp’s plant life and, when conditions aren’t favorable, plants wither and die while animals move elsewhere. Dead trees eventually fall and, unless they’re blocking the trail, wherever they land is where they remain.
Try as I might, my life will never have the exquisite perfection of a Botanical Garden. In truth, it resembles the unpredictable and disordered swamp more than any garden. Perhaps, that’s why I enjoy it so much. The swamp is imperfect, changeable, and full of surprises. I never know what flowers will be in bloom, what birds will appear, or if I’ll see alligators, snakes, raccoons, or deer. The only thing I know for sure is that the swamp never disappoints; it always is wonderful and wild in its own unique way!
Life, like the swamp, is chaotic, disorganized, and a little dangerous; nevertheless, it is magnificent! As much as we might prefer it to be as ordered, serene, and pristine as a botanical garden, it isn’t! We’re sure to encounter life’s versions of thistles, mosquitoes, fungus, poison ivy, and animal scat. Nevertheless, along the way, there will be blessings like the swamp’s Roseate Spoonbills, sunflowers, deer, Scarlet Hibiscus, butterflies, and tiny green tree frogs! Like the swamp, we’ll have seasons of abundance and scarcity, downpours and drought, growth and dormancy, health and affliction, blessings and misfortune, beginnings and endings, and even occasional hurricanes. Life comes with its share of muck, weeds, pests, predators, storms, and vulnerability to circumstances beyond our control. The only sure thing is that God is with us during it all!
It’s ironic that our local Botanical Garden is in what used to be a swamp. The 250,000 yards of fill created after two lakes were dug in 2008 sculpted the property into the splendid showplace it is today. Someday, we will trade in our earthly swamp for God’s heavenly garden—a garden far more magnificent than any earthly garden—one with no disease, death, sorrow, pain, or weeds. Until then, we must be satisfied living in the crazy and wonderful swamp we call life. As we walk through it, we brush off the spider webs, avoid the scat on the trail, stay clear of the alligators, and look for the swamp’s gifts. Confident in the swamp’s creator, we find joy and contentment in the unique beauty of our somewhat confusing and chaotic journey. Thank you, God, for this amazing holy mess we call life!
While putting away our nativity, I looked at the figure of Joseph. For the man who played a pivotal role in the Christmas story, once Christmas is packed away, Mary’s husband rarely gets a second thought until the next December. Neither Mark nor John mention the man who served as step-father to Jesus and the author of Hebrews didn’t even list him in its “Hall of Faith.”
The earliest known portrayal of Jesus’ birth is a bas relief on a Roman sarcophagus from around 385. It depicts the swaddled Christ child in the manger flanked by an ox at His head and an ass at His feet. Why are they present instead of Joseph and Mary? In 1223, Francis of Assisi brought some hay and a manger to a cave and celebrated Mass there on Christmas Eve. Even though Mary and Joseph weren’t present, an ass and an ox were! In 1291, Pope Nicholas IV commissioned Arnolfo di Cambio to create a permanent nativity. While there are statues of Mary and Jesus, Joseph, and three Magi, the sixth statue shows the heads of an ox and an ass rather than shepherd or angel. Besides the baby Jesus, the ass and the ox are the most ancient and consistent elements in depictions of the nativity. Why do these two animals, neither of which is mentioned in the gospels, have such a prominent place in our nativity scenes, Christmas cards, and carols?
Sometime near the end of the 3rd century, the Bishop of Myra died and a conclave was held to elect his replacement. Legend has it that the bishops kept praying and voting but could not come to an agreement. In a stalemate, they prayed all night for God’s guidance. That night, one bishop heard a voice telling him that, at the hour of matins, the man who walked into the church was the one God wanted to shepherd His flock.
According to the Greek myth, when Zeus presented a beautiful jar to Pandora as part of her dowry, he forbade her to open it. Curiosity, however, got the best of her. When she lifted its lid to peek into the jar, all the malevolence and afflictions Zeus hid inside were released. As evils like sickness, chaos, death, conflict, hatred, jealousy, sorrow, envy, lust, famine, and violence came rushing out , the terrified woman quickly replaced its lid. All that remained in the jar was hope—the only consolation humans have for the trouble and suffering Pandora let loose upon the world.