The ants go marching one by one: A lesson from the yard

One of the things on my "If I won the lottery" list is to have a yard straight out of Southern Living magazine—or maybe like one of the English gardens I see on Masterpiece Theatre.  Given I have yet to buy a lottery ticket, I do the best with what we've got.  I have a few special spaces to which I tend and I hope one day will make you want to just sit down and appreciate the beauty in nature.

Like my dilapidated pallet garden, which is slowing coming back to life after being nearly destroyed by hurricane Matthew in 2016. We have received a lot of rain in recent days, which has brought renewed life and growth. The flowers are blooming, the fish ponds are full, the butterflies and birds are flitting and flying, the grass is green—but so are the weeds. It's like they procreate overnight. And good luck trying to pull some of them by hand without hurting yourself.

And the ants. Good gosh. If the ants were to ever rebel, we would be in trouble. As I've worked in the yard the past few days I've waffled between amazement and fear of them. Especially fire ants. Those minute little minions have built townhouses and condos everywhere. 
  

"You lazy fool, look at an ant. Watch it closely; let it teach you a thing or two" - Proverbs 6:6 (MSG)

Maybe you think of this scripture—or a Pixar movie—when you think about the industrious little ant. How inspiring and empowering—just think of all we could accomplish, regardless of our size, background, or resources, if we just persevere!

Well, that's a lesson for another day. Remember the weeds? Well, this isn't so much about weeds either but, that's where today's lesson began.

I felt pretty safe today, armed with my long handled garden claw. I stood high above the ant towers, the claw making short-shrift of crabgrass, dandelions, and other thorny things. It wasn't until I felt that first sting on my left hand, then my right, that I realized I was in trouble. 

Fire ants!

As I rinsed my wounds with water and applied pain and itch relief cream, I berated myself. How stupid! How did I not see that the ants were on me? Focused on the task at hand, they caught me unaware. But it was in the midst of my pain and regret that I sensed God's quiet revelation—the other lesson to be learned from the mighty little ants.

They sneak up on you when you're not aware. When you focus too hard on what you think to be the right thing—or on what you know to be the wrong thing.

My first encounter with fire ants years ago left scars on my feet. They served as a reminder of the painful experience and how long it took to heal. I became more cautious, more aware of my surroundings. To not stand still in a dangerous place. But scars fade. And how easy it is to become complacent,  to believe that I am in complete control of my circumstances.

So, yes; let me look at the ants from a new perspective. The little things that I think I can control, yet, over time, build up and threaten to overwhelm me when I am focused on other things. Those things that bite and sting and scar. Doubt. Fear. Distrust. Judgment. Vanity. Jealousy. Insecurity.

Ouch. 

Thank you, God, for reminding me that my scars—seen and unseen—serve a purpose.  Help me to keep my eyes on my thoughts—those insidious fiery ants—making sure they do not build strongholds in my mind or heart. Help me to know when to run from the poisonous and painful. To always stand firm in the wisdom of your Word.

TrAsher...Treasure ?

The highlight of a recent gathering of friends at our home wasn't the food, poolside fun, or even the fellowship. It was my dog, Asher—known to some as TrAsher. Yes, that white dog. The one with a mouth like The Joker—and unless you know him, you can't decide if he's grinning with joy or on the attack....

If you knew Asher as a puppy, you recall his endearingly big ears and his ever-growing obsession with playing ball, as well as the threat he posed to shoes, clothes, toys, magazines—even the Bible. Hence, the nickname, "TrAsher".  I chalked his frustrating habits up to high energy, boredom, age, etc. Surely, he would grow out of it. But, as he grew, Asher became skittish around strangers—especially kids—and the moniker took on another meaning.

October 12, 2013. Derek and I married and had the brilliant idea of hosting the wedding reception at our house. Funny how one of the most memorable days of my life is remembered by others as the day "your dog bit that little girl". And for the past five years, Asher has been the source of many lighthearted jokes and warnings about coming to our house. I've laughed it off, but still felt slightly wounded because of the unconditional love and comfort Asher has brought to my life. If you would only give him a second chance...You'll see how he's changed, how sweet and funny he is. And why I love him.

Of course Asher and our other dog, Toby, began barking as people began to arrive that day. The first to arrive are just big people and he's all good. He's gotten quite used to adults. But, when the first carload of kids rolls up, my stomach flip-flops. My mind races—quick, find a tennis ball to distract him. Stay calm or he'll get anxious. Make sure you have some cookies on hand. Please, don't let someone bring up the wedding....

Be still and know...whispered my heart.

I smiled as I watched Asher weave his way in and around kids and adults the rest of the evening, wagging his tail, trying to coax someone into playing ball. The closest his teeth came to anyone was as he stole a hotdog from a girl's hand. What joy to hear how much she liked my dog, as she gave him another hot dog! She sees him. As the evening wound down, a couple of my husband's friends expressed amazement that Asher was so calm.

"I remember that time he almost went after my kid."
"Didn't he bite someone at your wedding?"

I fought back the need to defend his past, instead giving God the glory for answering my prayers. But, it was as if they did not want to let go of the negative.  As if it was too good to be true.

Once a bad dog, always a bad dog.

But aren't we all guilty of that at times? So much more fun to rehash the mistakes of others than believe and delight in their progress. Yeah, but remember when.... I'm glad Asher doesn't get that he was being judged for his past behavior, labeled so that people would not see him as I see him and know him.

Like my heavenly Father sees me.

If for no other purpose, our little cook-out reminds me that, in spite of my past mistakes, the times I have hurt others—and how often people remind me—I am defined only by who I am today, in Christ.

Maybe you are like me, like Asher, and have a history that some people cannot or will not let go. I hope and pray you come to believe that God can turn your mistakes into a masterpiece, give beauty for ashes. The life you think is trashed, is a treasure to God.

With time and prayer, Asher has learned—is still learning—to leave behind old ways and destructive habits. Why, one could almost say he is a gentleman and a scholar.