Chicory

Each July and August I delight in seeing the scrappy rows of periwinkle-blue chicory flowers along the country roads between work and home. I am always struck by the fact that you see chicory within the first few feet of the side of the road, but almost nowhere else. It is a pretty harsh environment.

Think about it.

The soil there is more compacted than inland, so I imagine the roots would get less oxygen. There is more sand and the remnants of ice salt from the winter months. There are oil residues from car lubricants and fuels, as well as the chemicals that come from asphalt and the tar used to seal cracks in the pavement. Lots of gravel and grit pepper the sides of roadways.

Debris from vehicles (both pieces of the vehicle and items falling out of them) grind into the road and is blown or washed off to the side. This can include a large number of compounds from plastics, glass, rubber from tires, metal, aluminum from cans, paper and wood products, paint and solvents that were on the wood, along with any pollutants from the emissions of vehicles. Somewhere during the course of the summer months the grass along the edges of the road are cut down for better visibility for traffic.

Yet it is in this environment that chicory seems to thrive.

It is not that this type of road side environment is better for chicory; it is that this environment is intolerable for most other plants. Chicory could probably thrive quite well in better soil, but there are so many other plants that out-compete chicory in those places. Maybe this is why I admire chicory—other than for the beautiful blue color.  Amidst such adverse circumstances, it flourishes. It doesn’t just lie down and quit.

This past week I took my camera to work in order to photograph the chicory on my ride home. However, the flowers were totally gone by late afternoon. It turns out that chicory blooms only in morning sun and closes by late afternoon. It knows how to take a mini Sabbath to be able to get up the next day and do it all over again.

I tend to over-analyze Good Friday. All it takes is simple faith to accept the immensity of it all. Yet, it is puzzling to me why all the drama was necessary to begin with.

Cup, crown and a tree

Two thousand years ago:  A beating and whipping. Hanging on a tree. A God that died. A killing to pay-in-full for sins the victim didn’t commit. Couldn’t God have forgiven all the sins of man-kind without the cross? I know that a sacrificial killing was customary in Bible times, but killing the Son of God? Really?

I know that sounds like blasphemy, but haven’t you ever wondered why the events of Good Friday and Easter had to happen?

And yet by faith, simple faith, I know deep down that not only was it necessary, but it was necessary that Jesus died for me personally. There is not a human way in which to compensate for a life time of sin. For me, for anyone. Only God can pay off a debt owed to God. 

Two thousand years later: A cup, a crown, and a tree. These items help me remember what a great price was paid on my behalf. They help me remember the events that led up to the cross, and the miracle of Resurrection shortly thereafter. I don’t need to understand it all now. That is where simple faith comes in.

One day in the future I will know fully how incredibly immense Good Friday and Easter really is. I will fully know how necessary it was. And when that “day of knowing” comes to be, I will be free of debt and ready to take my place in God’s eternal Easter.

The Wedding Photo

“Okay,” I shout, “everyone line up around the bride and groom!” The formal wedding portrait of the bride, groom, and family is always one of the hardest to pull off. By now the bride and groom know where to stand and what to do, but getting everyone else to cooperate is sometimes a nightmare.

Perhaps more than they realize, this moment will be looked back upon for generations to come. A moment in time captured at the click of the shutter. Everyone’s age locked into pixels for just a moment. But for now it is pure chaos.

“I need a family on the left and one on the right, and parents right by the bride and groom. I need the flower girl and ring bearer (twin brother and sister) in the very front. Engaged couple? To the right of the twins, please. No, move in closer please.” The mother of these little ones hides behind her father-in-law, self-conscious that she has not yet lost that extra weight from the twins. Coaxing her out to the front will prove to be a futile task.

Meanwhile, the mother of the bride is trying to direct traffic and ends up in front of the groom. She tries to bribe the twins to move to the correct spot, and is oblivious that she is the one that needs to move. I sigh, and ask the family on the left to move in closer to the bride and groom. They move as one unit, straight-jacketed as if they are duct-taped together. I notice their teen age son hiding behind his father, ignoring me completely and talking to his friends who will be part of this wedding photo if they move in any closer from the left! The last family is the hardest to pose. The ones with the most kids always are. I check my focus one last time and take the picture.

It is spring. A time for new growth. And though all the focus is on just two, the truth is that today is a day of growth for all of them. A new family is formed. And this new family grows out of the same soil that nourishes them all.