Prayers from the Island Wasted Structures

Wasted Structures

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The bay beach has changed configuration so that the dock next door is now exposed and dry.  I can walk under it and barely dampen my feet.  Its builder cut plans too close, and failed to take into account changing beach patterns.  I’m reminded of the Biblical farmer who delayed participation in Christ’s Kingdom until he had accumulated riches in massive barns, making certain he finally had ‘enough’.  But then he died before he could commit to God.  Too often we build for the moment, ignoring the future, ending up with wasted structures that are worthless and almost comic.  Help me, Lord, to consider always the eternity in the moment, accomplishing those tasks which will add to your kingdom.  May all that I build be pleasant in your sight, now and forever. Amen.

 

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Wasted ThirstWasted Thirst

After a busy weekend, my beach walk reveals the trash of abandoned drinks—plastic and glass bottles, smooth plastic or foam cups, cooler jugs that have been broken and left behind. Each of these must have served a useful purpose, providing refreshment in the hot sun, cooling thirsty throats, replacing moisture lost in perspiration. What was refreshment to those who drank has become an eyesore to those who use the beach. I wonder about my sources of refreshment and what they may leave behind. When I speak out in angry petulance, I may feel momentarily refreshed, but what have I left behind? When my selfishness surges to the surface, I’m relieved at first, but what havoc have I caused in someone else’s life? Do I find relief at the expense of others? Father, you alone are the source of refreshment that never litters or creates waste. Help me turn to you and share your cooling forgiveness and love in a world littered with destructive thirst.

Into the WavesInto the Waves

I watched some toddlers on the beach this morning.  They wanted to jump into the water, but were a bit frightened by the size of the waves.  Each time they advanced, a wave would push them back to the beach.  Finally their mother took each by the hand and walked into the water with them, holding tightly.  Together they were able to repel the waves, and shouts of joy signaled their fun.  Like those toddlers, I’m often afraid to move forward, feeling the waves push me back.  I cower on the shore until I turn and see I’m not alone, I reach out for your hand, Lord, and accept your presence and guidance.  Together we advance in the direction you would have me go.  Thank you for being there to help me when I try to move forward, giving me your strength, your courage, and your love. Amen.

My Camellia BushMy Camellia Bush

I have one blossom on a camellia bush given to me by a friend.  I’m very proud since for ages the small slip seemed barely to live, much less grow and flourish.  Any plant given by a friend has a special value, because it means part of that person is now alive in my care, as if I were able to graft the friend into my garden.  I worried about this camellia, not wanting to abandon it, but seeing no signs of growth.  Then suddenly this year it took hold and began to establish itself.  I wonder about the living gifts I give others; are they healthy acts of love and sharing, or do I give dying stalks of judgment and disappointment?  Help me, please Lord, to live my life so that the acts of kindness I perform may take root and flourish in other gardens. Amen.