This is a special essay written about my husband that was murdered in 1972. I wantedto include it here, as a view through anothers eyes. Thanks Spider!!!
A Tribute to Lonnie Moyers
©1999 by Spider Johnson
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[exerpt from a 6/99 letter to a friend, who asked me about my name]
...As for my name, I got it where most folks got theirs: my momma did it. Just kidding (what respectable mother would name her son "Spider?") Actually, I owe it to a tough guy named Lonnie Moyers. You asked, so here it is.
I grew up in Lubbock, near Lubbock High School, in the shadow of a giant water tower upon whose silver-painted steel, seemingly indestrucible surface I scratched my name, thinking it would stay forever. That monolith is now gone, along with Lonnie Moyers, yet my name survives.
Public education, especially junior high, provides far more than the Three R's because it throws together young people with incipient raging hormones, the main cause of all of life's troubles and my experience was no exception. I lived on the edge of the O. L. Slaton school district, a fairly tough school, and learned what it was like to have to fight some other testosterone-manufacturer just to hang onto my lunch money, among other equally insipid reasons. Found out about girls, too-but that's another story.
I got to where I defended myself with such ferocious abandon (because I hated fighting) that I earned the respect of most of the tough guys, although I was a "smart guy" and took honors courses and so forth, yet I (and everyone else) always deferred, politely as possible, to the toughest guy anyone could imagine: Lonnie Moyers. He was first of all a very large fellow, probably at least a couple of years older than the rest of us, and his features inspired awe and fear at first glance. The Native American in his blood showed up in his pronounced cheekbones, which lent extra dimension to a commanding face. His confident, familiar manner belied the juggernaut strength and brutality he was capable of to the degree that he rarely had to demonstrate the latter. He so much didn't have to defend or prove himself that he assumed an important role at school: that of peacekeeper.
It was fascinating, even at the time, watching him work. If he found anyone fighting (his intelligence network was pretty effective), he would grab each yokel by the scruff of his neck, shake them a bit and ask, "Now what are you fellers disagreein' about?", and the fight would be over, the boys would shake hands and that was that. If he even heard there was going to be a fight after school, he would confront the gladiators, one at a time, in the cafeteria, sit down next to them and patiently explain why they shouldn't settle their differences with fisticuffs, punctuating his persuasion with implied mayhem at his enormous, deadly hands. It always worked, as far as I could tell. Of course, there were fights he couldn't prevent, because that's the will of nascent testosterone and he couldn't be everywhere at once. But in a time and place where fighting was, for me and others, an unpleasant distraction from the preferable pursuit of studies and girls, his influence was certainly noticable and helpful.
One year, Lonnie was in my P.E. class, and he noticed my long skinny frame shinnying up the gym rope faster than anyone else (I was strong enough to use only my arms; still can today), arms pumping and legs flailing, like a spider, and he announced in that big, unabashed voice, "You're just like a spider; I believe I'm gonna call you 'Spider' from now on," and Spider became my name. Lonnie bestowed nicknames on those he liked, and believe me, no only did the name stick because he was the tough guy, my name was thankfully one of the less pejorative ones he dispensed. So, among a small group of my peers, I was then known as "Spider," a name which, even in those confusing years of adolescent oblivion, I liked and was proud of.
Lonnie's fate was familiar, like many of those from "his" part of town: star-crossed by family conflict, not enough money and a sub-cultural belief in hard luck. He wasn't as good a student as he was a diplomat, so he dropped out by the time he reached his junior year in high school and tried to join the army, but was rejected for some reason or another. So, he went off to work in various menial jobs here and there. I would run into him from time to time in Lubbock, and he was always friendly, glad to see me and would have a funny story to tell, although the look in the edges of his eyes revealed hints of failure. And in time, I came to know that look, a look that's everywhere, a look that shows more than anything the betrayal of potential, the fallen dreams that, even to adolescents, are as real and possible and available as the innocent air we breathed, and yet can wither so quickly, particularly under the inertia of self-doubt, hard luck and loathing. And then, when I was about 23 or 24 (and he was 26), I heard he was killed by a group of drunk hispanics at a nightclub where he worked as a bouncer, a situation where his size and diplomacy didn't matter much, knifed to death as he played out his last scene in his role as peacekeeper.
Although that small group of close pals knew me as Spider, I didn't make myself widely known by it until after Lonnie's death. Like most of life's ornaments, a person's name didn't seem that important to me before then. But then the idea of twenty-something year-old friends dying didn't occur to me as right, either. Folks were supposed to die when they were old, and Lonnie wasn't old. So I got to thinking about that name. Before long, I began introducing myself as Spider Johnson and, surprisingly, people come to know you by the name you tell them.
Johnson is the second most common English name in the world, Smith being first and Jones being third. Named for my grandfather, James and David both, while respectable, are not particularly distinctive. But combine "Spider" with "Johnson" and you have an unforgettable name that rolls off the tongue easily and pleasurably. It has served me well, in so many far-reaching and adventurous ways that I couldn't imagine what my life would have been like with any other name.
So, it's a simple little question, "where did you get your name," that inspired this tribute to a man who probably never imagined the contribution he made to my life through just being who he was. And to whatever degree his life might be tragic, mine has been anything but, and largely due to that nomenclative act of whim on his part. Therefore, every time I sign my name, it honors the memory of Lonnie Moyers and the gift, through me, through my art, to the world that Lonnie never got to completely fulfill while he was around. Although I mourned his passing at the time of his death, now I have only gratitude for him and gratitude for the incredibly rich, fulfilling life I get to experience one eternal day after another...
Lonnie Moyers is gone, the water tower is gone, my childhood is gone, yet my name survives them all, as names will. Like his, mine will acquire a certain type of immortality; history will decide on how much. Lonnie did pretty well after all, Don't you think?
The Road of Life From Roger At first, I saw God as my observer, my judge, keeping track of the things I did wrong, so as to know whether I merited heaven or hell when I die. He was out there sort of like a president. I recognized His picture when I saw it, but I really didn't know Him. But later on when I met Christ, it seemed as though life were rather like a bike ride, but it was a tandem bike, and I noticed that Christ was in the back helping me pedal. I don't know just when it was that He suggested we change places, but life has not been the same since. When I had control, I knew the way. It was rather boring, but predictable it was the shortest distance between two points. But when He took the lead, He knew delightful long cuts, up mountains, and through rocky places at breaknec k speeds. It was all I could do to hang on! Even though it looked like madness, He said, "Pedal!" I worried and was anxious and asked, "Where are you taking me?" He laughed and didn't answer, and I started to learn to trust. I forgot my boring life and entered into the adventure, and when I'd say, "I'm scared," He'd lean back and touch my hand. I gained love, peace, acceptance and joy; gifts to take on my journey, My Lord's and mine. And we were off again. He said, "Give the gifts away. They're extra baggage, too much weight." So I did, to the people we met, and I found that in giving I received, and still our burden was light. I did not trust Him, at first, in control of my life. I thought He'd wreck it; but he knows bike secrets, knows how to make it bend to take sharp corners, knows how to jump to clear high rocks, knows how to fly to shorten, scary passages. And I am learning to shut up and pedal in the strangest places, and I'm beginning to enjoy the view and the cool breeze on my face with my delightful constant companion, Jesus Christ. And when I'm sure I just can't do it anymore, He just smiles and says... "Pedal."
Burnt Biscuits
Are you still eating even though
mom once burned the biscuits?
They didn't look good or taste
good and had lost
most of their food value.
"Well you say Mom didn't
mean to burn the biscuits."
Have you quit going to
the doctor
because once you read
about a "doctor"
practicing without a license?
"of course not!!!
Have you thrown away
all your money
because someone passed
you a counteit
bill? The answer is
obvious.
So, let us apply the
same common
sense to the spiritual dimension of your life.
It is quite possible
that someone
may have offended you
as he tried to
explain "being born
again" or "being saved"
Perhaps it left abad taste in your mouth.
You may have been
wronged but you
can't just say 'I don't
want anything
more to do with becoming
a christian. You have spiritual needs
that are as real as the body's need
for food. And
the fact remains you still need the
forgiveness of sins. Every occupation has
people who will
use illegal or harmful
practices for their own advantage.
Isn't it logical that some of the very
same people will try to operate under the
guise of christianity?
As long as there is the real thing there
will be the imitation. You will never
see a real three dollar bill they will
all be counterfeit. There will always be
counterfeit christians.
It may be all too true that
you have seen spiritual counterfeits or
quacks. You may
have known some Christians
who were offensive. Still the decision to believe
the truth of Jesus Christ is your to make,
regardless of how others may have mishandled it.
Don't let "burned biscuits" keep you from
getting right with God.
Meet the Amazing Camel WHEN I'M HUNGRY,I'LL EAT ALMOST ANYTHING-A LEATHER BRIDLE, A PIECE OF ROPE, MY MASTER'S TENT, OR A PAIR OF SHOES. MY MOUTH IS SO TOUGH THAT EVEN A THORNY CACTUS DOESN'T BOTHER IT. I'M A DROMEDARY CAMEL, THE ONE HUMP KIND THAT LIVES ON THE HOT DESERTS OF THE MIDDLE EAST.
MY BIG HUMP WEIGHS 80 POUNDS AND IS FULL OF FAT, NOT WATER! THE INTELLIGENT CREATOR DESIGNED ME SO MY BODY AUTOMATICALLY TAKES THE FAT AND FEEDS ME WHEN I CAN'T FIND ANYTHING TO EAT. NATURALLY THIS CAUSES MY HUMP TO SHRINK, AND SOON IT TIPS TO ONE SIDE. BUT WHEN I FIND A NICE OASIS AND BEGIN TO EAT, IT BUILDS BACK UP.
WATER IS OFTEN VERY HARD TO FIND OUT HERE ON THE DESERT. SOMETIMES I WILL HAVE TO WAIT EIGHT DAYS BEFORE I CAN GET A DRINK. I LOOK TERRIBLE THEN. MY RIBS SHOW THROUGH MY SKIN, AND I MAY LOSE 225 POUNDS. BUT WHEN I FIND WATER, I'LL DRINK UP TO 27 GALLONS, IN JUST 10 MINUTES, AND GAIN THOSE 225 POUNDS BACK. I WAS DESIGNED FOR THE HOT, DRY DESERT.
PEOPLE USE ME FOR TRANSPORTATION BECAUSE I CAN TRAVEL THROUGH THE SAND DUNES SO WELL. IT'S REALLY EASY BECAUSE MY CREATOR GAVE ME SPECIALLY ENGINEERED SANDSHOES. MY TWO LONG BONY TOES HAVE A SUPER-TOUGHPIECE OF SKIN STRETCHED BETWEEN THEM SO I DON'T SINK INTO THE SOFT DRIFTING SAND.
SOMETIMES A BIG SANDSTORM SCREAMS ACROSS THE DESERT, BUT THAT DOESN'T BOTHER ME. MY MASTER DESIGNER PUT SPECIAL MUSCLES IN MY NOSTRILS THAT CLOSE PART WAY, KEEPING THE SAND OUT BUT LETTING IN JUST ENOUGH AIR TO BREATHE. MY DESIGNER ALSO GAVE ME LONG EYELASHES THAT HANG OVER MY EYES AND KEEP OUT THE BLOWING SAND. IF A GRAIN OF SAND SHOULD SLIP THROUGH AND LAND ON MY EYE, MY MAKER GAVE ME AN INNER EYELID THAT AUTOMATICALLY WIPES THE SAND OFF MY EYEBALL LIKE A WINDSHIELD WIPER.
IT'S REALLY DIFFICULT FOR ME TO UNDERSTAND HOW SOME PEOPLE SAY I EVOLVED INTO WHAT I NOW AM. I'M VERY TECHNICAL, HIGHLY ENGINEERED DROMEDARY CAMEL. THINGS LIKE ME DON'T JUST HAPPEN. THEY'RE PLANNED BY SOMEONE VERY INTELLIGENT AND LOGICAL. THE CREATOR'S BOOK, THE BIBLE, TELLS US THAT THIS GREAT DESIGNER IS JESUS CHRIST. IT SAYS,"THROUGH HIM ALL THINGS WERE CREATED,WITHOUT HIM NOTHING WAS MADE THAT HAS BEEN MADE." (JOHN 1:3)
JESUS CHRIST DESIGNED A WAY FOR ME TO LIVE IN THE DESERT. HE ALSO DESIGNED A WAY FOR YOU TO LIVE AS ONE OF GOD'S CHILDREN. HE KNEW THAT YOU CAN'T MAKE YOURSELF GOOD ENOUGH TO BE IN GOD'S FAMILY. THE BIBLE SAYS "ALL HAVE SINNED AND FALLEN SHORT OF THE GLORY OF GOD."(ROMANS 3:23). SO JESUS CAME TO EARTH AND TOOK THE BLAME FOR ALL YOUR SINS-FOR ALL THE WRONG YOU HAVE DONE. HE DIED ON THE CROSS AND ROSE FROM THE DEAD SO THAT YOU CAN BE FORGIVEN.
WHEN YOU BELIEVE THIS WITH ALL YOUR HEART, YOU WILL BECOME ONE OF GOD'S CHILDREN FOREVER. THE BIBLE PROMISES, "TO ALL WHO RECEIVED HIM(JESUS) TO THOSE WHO BELIEVED IN HIS NAME, HE GAVE THE RIGHT TO BECOME CHILDREN OF GOD."(JOHN 1:12) I HOPE YOU'LL DECIDE TO BELIEVE IN CHRIST.
THIS WAS WRITTEN BY BOB DEVINE
The True Force
Motion picture trade magazines predicted that Star Wars would become the all time, top grogging picture in box-office history. And, indeed it did.
What the trades did not predict was that Star Wars would become the cultural phenomenon that it has. What child, or adult for that matter, isn't on a first name basis with Luke, Han Solo, Darth Vader, Ben (Obi-Wan) Kenobi? Or hasn't learned the names R2D2, light sabers, and the Death Star?
George Lucas said that people love Star Wars because it allows them to live out childhood fantasies. But fantasy is only a pretty wrapper areound the real gift of Star Wars. For these films deliver more than fantasy: they teach about morality- good and evil, virtues and values-the real stuff life is made of.
Beyond the sheer entertainment, there is another reason people see these films again and again. Star Wars has a deeper meaning that speaks to our innermost needs. We want a sort of Force in our lives...and we want to know its ways so we can surprass our mortal potential.
The central, supernatural figure in Star Wars is, of course, a diety called the Force. But what exactly is the force? What is Lucas trying to show us?
George Lucas seems to have a genuine concern for people--particularly young people--and a deep committment to do what he believes God wants him to do. Lucas says, "I am simply trying to struggle through life; trying to do God's bidding." However, threaded throughout his films is the story of the Force-- an impersonal enitity with a dual nature--a good and a evil side.
The good side of the Force responds when those who have adequate faith call upon it for power to do their own bidding. Its dark side, however is seductive and can tempt people into doing evil. "Beware of anger, fear, and agression, the dark side are they," Yoda warns Luke in Jedi. "Once you start down the dark path, forever will it dominate your destiny."
Because the Force can be manipulated for good or evil purposes, it posseses no morality of its own. God, of course, has only a good side; He is Holy and Righteous. And Jesus never committed a single sin. While Lukes Force is a composite god of many relegions-including Christianity-it does not clearly represent any one diety. It is certainly not the True Force--the Holy and personal God.
The Bible tells us there is one True Force, who is God. He is the creator of all things, revealed to man in three persons; God the Father, God the Son, and God the Holy Spirit.
So the next time you hear the word "May the Force be with you!" You almost hear "God Bless You"
The Lesson Of The Geese This fall, when you see geese heading south for the winter flying along in the "V" formation, you might consider what science has discovered as to why they fly that way. FACT: As each bird flaps its wings, it creates an "uplift" for the bird immediately following. By flying in the "V" formation, the whole flock has at least 71% greater flying range than if each bird flew on its own.
LESSON:People who share a common direction and sense of community can get where they are going more quickly and easily because they are traveling on the thrust of one another.
FACT: When a goose flies out of formation, it suddenly feels the drag and resistance of trying to go it alone. It quickly gets back into formation to take advantage of the lifting power of the bird in front of it.
LESSON: If we have as much common sense as a goose, we stay in formation with those headed where we want to go. We are willing to accept their help and give our help to others. It is harder to do something alone than together. FACT: When the lead goose gets tired, it rotates back into the formation, and another goose flies to the point position.
LESSON: It is sensible to take turns doing the hard and demanding tasks and sharing leadership. As with geese, people are interdependent on each other's skills, capabilities, and unique arrangements of gifts, talents, or resources.
FACT: The geese flying in formation honk from behind to encourage those up front to keep up their speed.
LESSON: We need to make sure our honking is encouraging. In groups where there is encouragement, the production is much greater. The power of encouragement (to stand by one's heart or core values and encourage the heart and core of others) is the quality of honking we seek. We need to make sure our honking is encouraging and not discouraging.
FACT: When a goose gets sick, wounded, or shot down, two other geese will drop out of formation with that goose and follow it down to lend help and protection. They stay with the fallen goose until it dies or is able to fly again. Then, they launch out on their own, or with another formation to catch up with their flock.
LESSON: If we have the sense of a goose, we will stand by our colleagues and each other in difficult times as well as in good!
MEMORY JAR In September 1999, my mom was diagnosed with incurable pancreatic cancer. Needless to say, the next few months were a blur of just trying to accept what was happening and getting through the day for all of us family members. When December came I was really struggling for an idea of what to get my parents for Christmas. I wanted to get them something really special,but my funds were pretty tight and my parents have never been into material things anyway. For some reason, I remembered that I had read about a "Memory Jar". It's just a jar or box that you fill with slips of paper that you write on with memories of growing up. I was amazed at how many memories came flooding back to me once I sat down to think about it. I had to write them down as soon as I thought of them or I would forget them, so I had notes at home, in the car, at work, they were all over! About a week before Christmas I sat down and wrote them on nice stationery and put them in the jar. I'll tell you -- it was quite an experience. What amazed me was that most of the memories weren't of "big things", they were of small things, like mom making us tea, toast and jello water when we were sick as kids, or me always having toast with peanut butter whenever we had tomato soap for lunch. Of course there were big things too, like when I got married, or how my parents looked when they held my babies for the first time. It was really emotional for me to write all these down, but once I did it, I felt wonderful! Then I started to get nervous about how my parents would take this gift. My family is close, but we're not overly sentimental or affectionate. So on Christmas morning I wrote a letter to go with the jar explaining what it was and that they could read a few memories a day, or all of them, but they had to wait until they were alone. I waited until everyone had left their house on Christmas and then I went over to see what they thought. They told me that they had decided that they were only going to read a few that night and then they were going to read a few every day until the jar was empty (there were about 100 in there). Well, they got started and couldn't stop! They ended up reading all of them that night! They both told me that it was one of the best presents that they had ever received and it showed them that they did a good job at being parents and it really is the little things in life that count! I would recommend everyone doing this for the people they love. I now know that no matter what happens with my mom's illness, she knows how much I love her and my father and what a great impact they have had on my life! It must have had an impact on them too because the Memory Jar now has a prominent place right on their kitchen counter so everyone sees it when they come in. Karen Retzlaff
"Yes?"
"Don't interrupt me. I'm praying."
"But you called me."
"Called you? I didn't call you. I'm praying. Our Father which art in heaven ..."
"There ... you did it again."
"Did what?"
"Called me. You said, Our Father which art in heaven. Here I am. What's on your mind?"
"But I didn't mean anything by it. I was, you know, just saying my prayers for the day. I always say the Lord's Prayer. It makes me feel good, kind of like getting a duty done."
"All right. Go on."
"Hallowed be thy name ..."
"Hold it! What do you mean by that?"
"By what?"
"By ?hallowed be thy name'?"
"It means ... it means ... good grief! I don't know what it means. How should I know? It's just a part of the prayer. By the way, what does it mean?"
"It means honored ... holy ... wonderful."
"Hey, that makes sense. I never thought about what ?hallowed' meant before. Thy kingdom come, Thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven."
"Do you really mean that?"
"Sure, why not?"
"What are you doing about it?"
"Doing? Nothing, I guess! I just think it would be kind of neat if you got control of everything down here like you have up there."
"Have I got control of you?"
"Well ... I go to church."
"That isn't what I asked you. What about your bad temper? You've really got a problem there, you know. And then there's the way you spend your money ... all on yourself. And what about the kind of books you read?"
"Stop picking on me! I'm just as good as some of the rest of those people at the church."
Excuse me. I thought you were praying for my will to be done. If that is to happen, it will have to start with the ones who are praying for it ... like you, for example."
"Oh, all right. I guess I do have some hang-ups. Now that you mention it, I could probably name some others."
"So could I."
"I haven't thought about it very much until now, but I really would like to cut out some of those things. I would like to ... you know ... be really free."
"Good ... now we're getting somewhere! We'll work together, you and I. Some victories can truly be won. I'm proud of you."
"Look, Lord, I need to finish up here. This is taking a lot longer than it usually does. Give us this day, our daily bread."
"You need to cut out the bread. You're overweight as it is."
"Hey, wait a minute! What is this ... 'Criticize me day?' Here I was doing my religious duty, and all of a sudden you break in and remind me of all my hang-ups."
"Praying is a dangerous thing. You could wind up changed, you know. That's what I'm trying to get across to you. You called me, and here I am. It's too late to stop now. Keep praying. I'm interested in the next part of your prayer ... (pause). Well ... go on!"
"I'm scared to."
"Scared? Of what?"
"I know what You'll say."
"Try me and see."
"Forgive us our sins, as we forgive those who sin against us."
"What about Ann?"
"See? I knew it! I knew you would bring her up! Why Lord, she's told lies about me, spread stories about my family. She never paid back the debt she owes me. I've sworn to get even with her!"
"But your prayer? What about your prayer?"
"I didn't mean it."
"Well, at least you're honest. But it's not much fun carrying that load of bitterness around inside, is it?
"No, but I'll feel better as soon as I get even. Boy, have I got some plans for that neighbor. She'll wish she had never moved into this neighborhood."
"You won't feel any better. You'll feel worse. Revenge isn't sweet. Think of how unhappy you already are. But I can change all that."
"You can? How?"
"Forgive Ann. Then I'll forgive you. Then the hate and sin will be Ann's problem and not yours. You will have settled your heart."
"Oh, you're right. You always are. And more than I want to revenge Ann, I want to be right with you. Ann, I want to be right with you ... (pause) ... (sigh). Alright! Alright! I forgive her! Help her to find the right road in life, Lord. She's bound to be awfully miserable now that I think about it. Anybody who goes around doing the things she does to others has to be out of it. Someway, somehow, show her the right way."
"There now! Wonderful! How do you feel?"
"Hmmmm ... well, not bad. Not bad at all. In fact, I feel pretty great! You know, I don't think I'll have to go to bed uptight tonight for the first time since I can remember. Maybe I won't be so tired from now on because I'm not getting enough rest."
"You're not through with your prayer. Go on."
"Oh, all right. And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil."
"Good! Good! I'll do that. Just don't put yourself in a place where you can be tempted."
"What do you mean by that?"
Don't turn on the TV when you know the laundry needs to be done and the house needs to be picked up. Also, about the time you spend having coffee with your friends ... if you can't influence the conversation to positive things, perhaps you should re-think the value of those friendships. Another thing, your neighbors and friends shouldn't be your standard for "keeping up with." And please don't use me for an escape hatch."
"I don't understand the last part."
"Sure you do. You've done it a lot of times. You get caught in a bad situation. You get into trouble and then you come running to me. "Lord, help me out of this mess, and I promise you I'll never do it again." You remember some of those bargains you tried to make with me?"
"Yes and I'm ashamed, Lord. I really am."
"Which bargain are you remembering?"
"Well, there was the night that Bill was gone and the children and I were home alone. The wind was blowing so hard I thought the roof would go any minute and tornado warnings were out. I remember praying, 'Oh God, if you spare us, I'll never skip my devotions again."
"I protected you, but you didn't keep your promise, did you?"
"I'm sorry, Lord. I really am. Up until now I thought that if I just prayed the Lord's Prayer every day, then I could do what I liked. I didn't expect anything to happen like it did."
"Go ahead and finish your prayer."
"For Thine is the kingdom, and the power, and the glory forever. Amen."
"Do you know what would bring me glory? What would really make me happy?"
"No, but I'd like to know. I now want to please you. I can see what a mess I've made of my life. And I can see how great it would be to really be one of your followers."
"You just answered the question."
"I did?"
"Yes. The thing that would bring me glory is to have people like you truly love me. And I see that happening between us. Now that some of these old sins are exposed and out of the way, well, there is no telling what we can do together."
"Lord, let's see what we can make of me, okay?"
"Yes, let's see."
How many times have we stood in the middle of our gardens with hands on our hips asking "Where did these weeds come from?" After all, we're good gardeners, we don't deserve these weeds. Then we shake our heads and get down to the business of pulling tham. In Matt 13:29-30 Jesus told his discipiles that sometimes for good plants to flourish some weeds must be left alone lest the good plants get torn out with the weeds. Occassionally, I weed the plot of land behind my cottage. I have to decide in certain cases when it is best to leave weds so as to not accisentially pull a plant or flower, I find I must be particularly discriminiating when weeding around California poppies-its often easy for me to confuse thre weeds with the young plants, so I let the weeds remain a while. God is also discerning about letting some "weeds" stay in our selves, churches, and communities. When we see people doing bad things to good people, it seems there is no justice, Yet we also know that in our lives ( and in the lives of others) our greatest weaknesses may also be the flipside of our greatest strengths. God the wise gardener knows when it's time to pull the weeds and when its best to leave them growing amoung the good seed.
