Resisting Green Eggs and Ham

We all know the Dr. Seuss book about a creature who offers a strange meal to his friend.  The offer is declined.  Throughout the course of the story, the same offer is made in the midst of a variety of circumstances.  The refusals grow more insistent as the situations become more animate.  Eventually, however, weariness sets in and the food is consumed.  It seems that the creature finally accepts the offering only to get the insistent friend off of his back, but it turns out that the food is actually quite enjoyable and pleasing to the palate.  While this is a surprise to the receiver, the giver of the food knew the truth all along.  And since he just wanted to do something good for his friend, he fought through the ignorant resistance until his friend agreed to be blessed.

 

I resist a great many things in my life that would benefit me.  I resist exercise and proper healthy foods.  And today, while I was planning to compose this post, I resisted the urge to stop playing computer games and do something worthwhile.  Once I finally gave in and closed the window on my game, I rediscovered the joy that I find in writing about things that are important to me.

 

I resist the urge to use reading glasses, even though they make my reading experience far more pleasant.  I resist the urge to do projects around my house, but when I finally do get around to doing them, I feel a strong sense of satisfaction that I would not have known had I not fought through the resistance.

 

Some people refuse to give in to technology, but for many who have taken the time to learn how computers and cell phones work, there are new capabilities at their fingertips that had not been previously available.  And some people resist the urge to be done with their education as soon as they have a high school diploma--those people find that life is constantly presenting new opportunities to them.  Though it might have been difficult to fight through the resistance, they are glad that they did.

 

Resistance to new possibilities keeps us from finding new and wonderful things.  Those who care about blessing our lives, however, insist that we work through the challenges.  They know what waits on the other side is good...and they want us to find it.  So, as long as we resist, they persist in their encouragement.  What breaks their heart, however, is when we never do take possession of the best things that are available to us.

 

Whenever I read the Gospels, I feel the frustration that Jesus must have been tormented with.  He was offering mankind the very love of the Father in Heaven, but most of the people simply refused to embrace the wonderful joy that was being offered.  When he said things, his hearers simply thought, "This is too hard...too strange...too much work.  I won't eat the bread that you offer."

 

God is not Sam I am, He is, "I AM."  He offers His love towards all of us.  It is the most wonderful thing that could ever be given; but because it might require us to fight through resistance (and that can be hard), we simply accept that resistance.  Like the giver of the Green Eggs and Ham, God knows that what He offers is the greatest thing you can ever imagine.  But will you take the plate and eat?  When you don't, the loss that you experience breaks His heart.

 

The good news, however, is that the love and joy that you find in your existence does not depend on the resistance of the world...it simply depends on your willingness to work through it and find God on the other side.  That is the place where you can find that God's joy is your joy.

 

Why would anyone reject such a God?

Weeds and Flowers

Jesus told a story in which a landowner planted good wheat in his field, but at night an enemy came and planted tares.  Most of us don't grow wheat and the word "tare" doesn't mean much.  Maybe the best way for us city-dwellers to look at this story is to suggest that we planted good flowers one Memorial Day Weekend, and somebody who doesn't like us came and planted weeds in the middle of our beautiful array of colors.

Let me tell you what I know about weeds.  First, I know that I hate them.  Second, I know that no one really has to come and plant them in my field (they simply appear by magic).  Also, I know that they have big thick roots.  While it is easy to accidentally remove a flower with my little spade, some weeds cannot be removed without a backhoe.  I also know that I don't have to water my weeds for them to grow in strength.  They are not weak and dependent like flowers, but are strong and persistent.  I also know that sometimes they disguise themselves as flowers, and because they look so pretty, I don't remove them.  Sometimes, however, this little deceit on their part makes me remove flowers that I think are weeds.  

Anyway, weeds are strong and independent.  They don't require pampering.  They have to be removed at the root if you want them to stay away, but they make sure that that is not an easy chore.  They are also sneaky.

But here's what struck me the other day as I was weeding, and I think it looks a great deal like the weeds that are in the flower bed of my heart: weeds are selfish.

I say this because they just jump anywhere in the dirt that they feel like going.  They don't care if there is grass or flowers or shrubs--weeds go wherever they like.  While flowers tend to stay right where I put them (they might grow upward if I am lucky), weeds like to go right where they are not supposed to be.  They see the place in the dirt where I have planted the pretty flowers and they say, "I want to live there."  And when they tell the flowers to move, they don't say "Please."

So, as I see it, it is selfish weeds that destroy the beauty of a physical garden.  And in the beautiful spiritual garden that God has planted in my life, it is usually weeds that destroy God's desire for the landscape of my heart.

This summer I have had to pull weeds almost every day.  When I don't pull them, they take over.  If the pretty flowers that also live there do not die, they are at the very least, hidden.

I also need to pull the selfishness out of the spiritual garden of my heart every day.  If I don't, I risk hiding the beauty that God has put there, if not destroying it all together.

Selfishness is a weed.  It appears out of nowhere, needs no sustenance to survive, and takes whatever it wants.  The question then is, "Will I let it destroy my garden?  Or will I strive to pull it out of the roots of my life each and every day?" 

If I care about being spiritually beautiful, I will choose the latter.