of shapes and angles
…an elephant or a cow?
Our Kenyan Pastor related some interesting information this morning. He claimed that you could always tell when an elephant had been near your tent (as if you wouldn’t know!?) because their droppings are half full of undigested grass and leaves. This is why elephants have to take in far more food than they need. They waste a lot by only having one rather inefficient stomach.
Cows, on the other hand, have a series of four highly diversified stomachs to thoroughly process what they take in. Plus, they are able to regurgitate and chew their cud while resting.
The question is, are we as Christians, elephants or cows? Do we graze briefly on God’s Word but neglect to process it in any way? Or do we, like the cow, process it by taking in, reviewing and revisiting so that we reap the full benefit and value of what we are reading?
Of course, there’s the other aspect as well – what comes out of the elephant is of little use, except maybe to dung beetles. But the cow, as well as providing for its own needs and the needs of its calf, also provides generous food for others…
Worth thinking about.
In this old house, nearly 100 years old, with it’s strange little nooks and crannies, and a conglomeration of add-ons and modernisations, there are stories held if we only know how to read them. Built between two world wars, did it lose someone to that second slaughter? Who were those first hopeful owners who made it their home. There are signs all around that the garden was once loved and cherished, and the ancient grapevine over the wooden arbour is covered with grapes again. I wonder how many children have raided that vine over the generations. Somewhere along the line a shaky lean-to was tacked onto the back of the garage, and a new room was added as a third bedroom. Had the family become too big for the original two? There’s a tiny alcove built into the roof over the wash-house. It’s so small, I have no idea what it was intended for.
Then, for a while, the house was neglected and unloved, broken windows, the walls pitted with little holes and scars of careless use, small leaks in pipes and bathroom wreaking slow destruction. Renters who cared little for the history or the future of this place. Now we are adding our story, mending and replacing, painting and weeding. Our little dog has made it his home as well. We’ve planted flowers, a bay tree, and other small trees to attract the birds, tuis and blackbirds that sing to us in the mornings. It’s a slow process, but the house doesn’t mind. Something else to hold in its memory.
of many years is made up
of small steps