The other day I was talking with my neighbor, and we were discussing all the raking we had been doing. (Needless to say, I have done more, but that’s not the point.)
I wondered aloud what it would be like if God had designed all the leaves to fall off the trees at the same time. The thought of being under a tree when all of its leaves came down in one big lump amused me. Can you imagine the trauma it might cause kids who are playing outside? The thought amused me even more.
My neighbor, who takes care of his yard to a degree that most of us can only aspire to (and then some) commented that we’d all have dead grass. Thanks, Johnny Raincloud.
He might be right. Seeing a pile of leaves waist-deep would be very discouraging and might keep more of us from all the raking that we do. After all, we still rake all the leaves, but the work has been spread out over weeks.
Yes, I’m getting tired of my rake now, but a pile consisting of every leaf my trees ever held would feel insurmountable. Better to take it little by little.
WATCH OUT FOR FALLING PUNS
Let’s leave that conversation behind for a moment. 2020 has been quite the year and a half, hasn’t it?
Storms, riots, murder hornets, land hurricanes, racism, and a contentious election. In case anyone was feeling left out, we are also in the midst of a global pandemic. Oh, and as if all that wasn’t enough, we had to say good-bye to Alex Trebek too.
2020, you and I are going to have some words.
PERSPECTIVE IS EVERYTHING
I remember back a couple years ago (or maybe it was March) when they told us we needed to quarantine for a couple of weeks and then we’d all be back. Back to school. Back to church. Back to work.
My family postponed a spring break trip to June, because surely this would all be over by then. When June hit, we postponed the trip indefinitely, waiting for cruise ships to decide if they will ever sail again.
Now, there are two groups of people. There are those who think this is the beginning of the apocalypse and life will never be the same again. Others assume that the minute the big ball drops in Times Square, our collective Cinderella dreams will all be restored and life will go back to normal.
I’m not a pessimist, but if you’re in that second group, I have some swamp land or a bridge to sell you. Or whatever scoffers are selling to believers these days.
But I’m not here to make a profit. I’m here to make a point.
SO WHAT IS THE POINT OF THIS POST?
Thanks for sticking with me here, and for believing that I have a point, which...I do.
It occurs to me that if my family had known back in March what we know now, we might have been more discouraged than we already were. In fact, if the riots and the election and the pandemic and the many other things that have made 2020 so incredibly memorable had all happened in one fell swoop, the suicide rate might have soared.
The reality is it would have felt unbearable. It would have been like the story of Job, where he lost his children and his livestock and his everything in one day, only to be followed up by getting a bad case of the plague.
How many of us would have responded that God gives and God takes away? How many would have persisted in praising God's name? I'm not doing a poll, but I don’t think the numbers would look good.
It seems to me that maybe God was giving us a gift by offering us experiences in chunks of 24 hours. Maybe He was on to something when He told us not to worry about tomorrow.
If we don’t see how unbearable the alternative is, it might be because our lives have been so pain-free. We also may have been unconscious for most of 2020.
Either way, I’m going to be thankful that the leaves fall over an entire season instead of in one big drop.
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