NATURE'S PARADE

Azaleas in my yard

As I write (early May) it's festival time in my valley. Every year, in celebration of spring and my home valley's orchard industry, promoters put on an “Apple Blossom Festival” with teen “royalty” and three parades (classic cars, youth-focused entries, and the grander 100-entry state-wide floats and marching bands). Oh yes, also a food festival which takes over the huge, well-groomed courthouse lawn for a couple weeks. (It recovers, thanks to diligent groundskeepers.) The influx of tourist dollars helps the economy. And yes, it is a sort of “whew” that bids goodbye to winter's chill and hello to spring and summer delights.

I smile to see my son continue some family festival traditions from his childhood. One is buying his family the finger-dusting pastry creation that's basically a glob of dough dribbled into hot oil, then sprinkled with powdered sugar. We know it as “funnel cakes”; it's a variation of the Italian chiacchiere-- messy to eat, but who's to quarrel with an annual tradition​?

It's sensory overload—all the classic cars, floats and their waving community “queens,” bands, drill teams, horses, carnival food, plus a real visiting “carnival” at one end of town with its classic array of noisy thriller rides.

Our local event reminds me of the first parade I remember attending, probably around age five, in the early 1950s. My family at that time lived about an hour's drive from the famed Rose Parade in Pasadena. My dad was able to buy reserved bleacher seats, which enabled us “little ones” to really see the parade going by. I have dim memories of my television Western heroes—Roy and Dale Rogers—waving while riding the same beautiful horses used on their then-black-and-white TV Western adventure show.

Yes, parades are exciting and glamorous. But there's a quiet parade I enjoy even more. It happens every spring in my yard when the grass, shrubs and flowers awaken from their winter naps. Color returns—not just green, but red, orange, pink, yellow. I recall this quote by Thomas Merton (1915-1968), an American Trappist monk, mystic, poet, and author:

Let us come alone to the splendor that is all around us, and see the beauty in ordinary things.

Rhododendron in my yard

Those “ordinary things” include nature's floral beauty....plus things like the morning light, a bird singing a greeting to the sunrise, a shared meal, and quiet connections. It's simpler life without the television blaring or fighting rush-hour traffic on the highway.

It's okay to come together as a community and celebrate. Besides my city's festival, another city about 30 miles west celebrates even more. Leavenworth has a spring “Mai fest” with the ribbon-winding pole dance. Its “Oktoberfest,” besides the ooh-and-ah of mountain landscapes turning yellow and red, amps up the Bavarian music with performances of the long alpenhorns. Its “Winter Karneval” with half a million downtown lights marks a German tradition back to the 13^th century.

Community spirit is a good thing. But beyond such celebrations, we should never lose sight of the ability to celebrate heaven's blessings. All around us are good and celebration-worthy gifts: sky, water, plants and trees, friendships and family--generously God-provided.

TEAR-JERKER

Oh, the tears that flow when I peel and chop an onion in food preparation. There's an explanation for that! When cut, onions release “syn-Propanethial-S-oxide,” a chemical irritant that stimulates the eyes' “lachrymal glands,” releasing tears. Next time you're experiencing buckets of tears while chopping onions, impress somebody with that explanation!

But there's another way to look at onion-peeling, one that's really personal. Prayer-centered monk and author Thomas Merton (1915-1968) compared the misery of onion-peeling to God's refinement of our character. Layer by layer, He peels away our self-centered spirits until the real-”me” is revealed. It's the idea expressed via another ancient spiritual spokesperson, Jeremiah, who gave this word from God: “I [God] will bring adversity on all flesh” (Jeremiah 45:5 NKJV).

What! Isn't God the grandfatherly type who answers every prayer for health, wealth and happiness? Sorry, but no. He uses hardship, tears, misery, of our fallen condition for good—if we let Him. One writer, commenting on the Jeremiah passage, put it this way:

God says that when he brings great disaster upon you there will be no time to pack a bag filled with ego, self-centeredness, lust, or materialism. He'll let you escape, but only with the Jesus clothes on your back. What you're left with is your real life in Jesus (Colossians 3:4). A life that is filled with God's purpose and a life in alignment with God's heart and mind. In this real life, we enter into the abundance of life promised by Jesus (John 10:10). (1)

Every layer of selfishness and “entitlement” that's peeled away, like an onion, is apt to produce angst and tears. But it's the process that brings us to the heart of God. No matter what hardship or discipline we endure, there's a bottom line—that nothing “will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord” (Romans 8:39).

Our spiritual journey will involve trials and tears, all part of God's way of peeling away layers of the self-focused life. Tough times may result from our own bad decisions, or from the negative actions of others toward us. Such times—it's often said—can leave us bitter or better. “Better” happens when hardship presses us closer to the heart of God.

And I remember: God's own Son wept. Over the pain of a sin-soaked world. But in His divinity He knew the rest of the story, in heaven:

He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away. (Revelation 21:4)

Such hope sometimes brings tears to my eyes—good tears, not the onion type.

1. God Peels Back the Layers until the Real You is Revealed | Devotional by Jon Walker (thoughts-about-god.com) Oct. 19, 2019, accessed Aug. 24, 2021.