“Consider how the wildflowers grow”
I should be writing an essay, but today’s lectio pulls at my attention. Consider.
“They do not labor or spin”
I spent the morning split between teaching children, switching loads of wash, and pulling down the dated and drooping ceiling tiles in the living room, to reveal the beautiful bare bones beneath. Ire rose up every time I caught a glimpse of children forgetting to finish their school assignments or littering our shared office with bits and scraps of cardboard.
“Yet I tell you, not even Solomon in all his splendor was dressed like one of these”
They wear the cardboard as boats and rockets and robot suits. When I chase them from the house, they sprawl in the grass with their books, unhurried, unworried, and blissfully unaware…
“If that is how God clothes the grass, which is here today and tomorrow is thrown into the fire, how much more will he clothe you–you of little faith!”
of what a disaster our house is, the debris I clean from the living room floor, or the number of minutes we have until Shane comes home from lunch. And the wash! How did we get so far behind again! Did I remember to pull out the soup bones for tonight?
“Do not worry about what you will eat or drink. Your Father knows what you need”
I needed a moment. I turned on this meditation as I prepared to wash off the dirt from the morning’s work. Hot water carried it away in streams, along with my frustration at messy bedrooms and towels on the bathroom floor. Consider.
Consider Legs. They’s served me well today. Usually I get in the shower and bemoan thick calves and chunky thighs. I compare my body to some template in my mind. One that I’ve never measured up to. Instead, a curious thought pipes up next to the usual ones. This thick body serves me well. Not every wild flower is a rose.
I go on to consider provision, that I have to search a chest freezer for soup bones. Consider the solid wooden structure under drooping tiles. Consider wild and careless childhood, free from fear or want. Consider the wrapped Christmas presents that arrived in the cardboard boxes that now litter my office.
“But seek his kingdom, and these things will be given to you as well”
Sometimes it seems like too much. Sometimes it is. But it is good, and so very abundant.