Wonders from my Garden
We all wanted to be her friend. Even through my five year-old eyes, I recognized her as beautiful. Long blonde curls framed big blue eyes and a dimpled smile.
I had big eyes, but they were green. I had long hair, but it was straight and brown.
In my mind she was the beauty.
But for that moment, I was the chosen one.
Why I struck her fancy that day I’ll never know. She extended the coveted invitation— asking me to play at her house after school.
So for the rest of the school day we were inseparable.
I thought we had a good time at her house. But the next day, expecting to be her friend, I was dismayed to find she had moved on to someone else.
I had other friends, but I enjoyed the notoriety of being her friend.
Then I noticed a pattern.
She never kept the same friend for long, flitting from one to another like a fragile butterfly. Extracting nectar from one bloom, only to be attracted to another bloom in the span of seconds.
I must have said something to my mother who defined her behavior. Because I then associated the girl’s name with a word bigger than most kindergardeners know—Fickleness.
I have no memory of her after that school year.
Maybe she moved away. Maybe we just had no classes together after sweet ancient Mrs. Raab. And I left East Texas in the second grade.
But to this day I clearly remember her name…
Jesus was no stranger to fickleness.
He knew the prophecies,
He knew his role,
The recipient of a palm branch parade for the favored.
Yet he must have found the exuberant Jerusalem welcome bittersweet.
“Many people spread their cloaks on the road, while others spread branches they had cut in the fields. Those who went ahead and those who followed shouted, “Hosanna!” “Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord!” Mark 11:8-9
He knew in a short span of time, some of these same devoted fans would do such a head-spinning about-face that he would be left breathless.
In the face of their hatred and thirst for blood.
His blood.
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Matthew 27:23-25 “…What crime has he committed?” asked Pilate. But they shouted all the louder, “crucify him!” When Pilate saw that he was getting nowhere, but that instead an uproar was starting, he took water and washed his hands in front of the crowd “I am innocent of this man’s blood,” he said. “It is our responsibility!” All the people answered, “His blood is on us and on our children!”
-Have you ever been accused of being fickle or been the recipient of fickleness?
-Consider times when you’ve been fickle toward the Lord and be patient with others who are struggling with the same thing.