Now, as a "seasoned adult", I appreciate the beauty and tranquility of the desert...
... the adaptations to live in a harsh environment...
... the symbiotic relationships between plants and animals...
... and the contrasts of color, shapes and texture.
During a recent trip to "the Gardens" (as the locals call it!), I noticed a striking similarity between some of the plants and animals and myself.
The center cactus is not a cactus at all- in fact, it is not even a living thing! It's a Chihuly exhibit made entirely of glass. But, "planted" in the ground near the entrance, it certainly looks like a cactus!
As I was standing on a path shooting pictures of hummingbirds, a reddish blur on the ground caught my eye. Actually, it made me jump! When it stopped and was quite still, it "disappeared" into the dirt and rocks. Upon closer inspection, I realized it was a squirrel.
On that same path while I was shooting hummingbirds, I caught this little guy (a Verdin) just by accident. He blended into the tree so perfectly I couldn't see him at all from where I stood. It was only once I got home and viewed my photos on a bigger screen that I could discern him.
These "camouflage" photos reminded me that sometimes I, too, blend in too much with the world making it difficult or even impossible for others to see me as a Christian. The squirrel and bird blend in for protection from predators; it is a survival mechanism. But I blend in because it's easier... or I want to do something I know I shouldn't... or I don't feel like doing that thing I know I should.
Instead, what I really want is to be as different from the world as this beautiful, bright saguaro blossom is from the spiny, dull cactus on which it grows... to be among the thorns, but never mistaken for one.
"I have given them your word and the world has hated them, for they are not of the world any more than I am of the world. ... As you sent me into the world, I have sent them into the world."
~Jesus, as he prayed to the Father (John 17:14, 18)
Neat! I too, enjoy the gardens.
ReplyDeleteI don't think I realized that you grew up here.