Promises

This evening I was sitting in my car in the parking lot listening to this amazing song by Jon Hopkins. It was raining and I looked at the water droplets on my windscreen. Then I looked at the street lamp. Then I let my mind focus on the rain drops, while my eyes remained focused on the lamp. That's when I noticed something amazing.

Each rain drop had been transformed into a jewel, a circle of blue fractals, surrounded by a tiny, perfect rainbow and a halo of gold. The rainbows made me think of God's promise to Noah in Genesis. Each drop was like a tiny promise that He would never abandon the world. That the future would, somehow and against all odds, be a good one.

Whenever I let the focus of my eyes drift back toward the rain drops, they became ordinary, dull. I could look at them without really seeing them. When I looked at the light beyond, I could see them in all their glorious beauty.

And then my metaphor-loving brain kicked into action. I thought, what if the light is like God, and the rain drops are people? When I let my focus rest on God, I can see the people around me for what they really are - glorious reflections of the light that pervades and illuminates all of humanity, all of the cosmos. Each person becomes a prism for God's glory; their goodness, their truth, their love suddenly come into clear view. Maybe I normally don't notice these things, not because they aren't there, but because I'm not seeing people in their proper context - as beautiful creations of a wonder God.

When I focus on God's golden light echoing through the universe, each person becomes a rainbow, a promise from God. Billions of promises that the future can, somehow and against all odds, be a good one.

Lady bugs versus aphids

Every year I get the privilege of witnessing an exciting bug showdown right in my front yard. First the aphids come to suck all the juices out of our lovely rose bushes. But I know it will be OK, because shortly after that, the lady bugs arrive. The lady bugs themselves will eat up to 60 aphids in a day. They also lay eggs, which hatch out into weird looking, fast growing, ravenously hungry larvae. The larvae can eat their weight in aphids each day.

Pretty soon, my rose bushes are absolutely crawling with lady bugs and their babies. (The photo above is from the start of the season - I found no larvae that day, and only about 20 adult bugs). It's fantastic to watch it all happening each year, and it's satisfying to know I don't have to worry about getting rid of the aphids myself.

The only spanner in the works is the ants. I didn't get a good photo of the ants this time, but they do seem to try to protect the aphids. They aren't really a match for the overwhelming numbers of lady bugs though, and it's kinda cool to have this extra bit of complexity in the ecosystem. If the ants are invested in the aphids, it's most likely because they harvest and eat the aphids poo! I haven't caught my ants doing this yet, but I found this great video on youtube showing it happening.

Time to go out to my garden and try to get my own video of it!