My Nano Patch
| My Nano Patch -- Agapanthus Nature speaks to me. Ever since growing up in Hualien, a rural part of Taiwan, I’ve always fancied nature. If I wasn’t day-dreaming high up a tree branch in my parents’ backyard, I’d be strolling down at the beach not far from the house. I also enjoyed lying on my back on a slope at the schoolyard watching cloud formations. Looking back, I could see how the Lord had begun to prepare my impressionable young heart to ask many serious and weighty questions like, “who am I,” “where did I come from,” “where am I going,” and “what’s the meaning of life…?” Nature challenges the mind with many questions and excites the inner man with many clues to possible answers. Only if we are willing to stop and listen. Looking back, I know the Lord had spoken to me through nature therefore made it so easy for me to believe in Him when the gospel was presented to me later on in my teenage years. Now, about forty years later and graying, I find nature still speaking to me, especially through my little nano patch of the universe – gardens. Regrettably I must confess, I’ve spent most of my time rushing through life and missed many precious lessons. I am just now beginning to learn to stop and listen again. Consistent with the burdens and the messages the Lord has placed on my heart, I shall continue to write down these little impressions as I observe and learn from nature, and share them with my dear brothers and sisters as I have done before. However, if you find these observations too corny, please forgive me – I am still learning to listen. And I could be wrong. Agapanthus It’s mid April, and my Agapanthus is putting out a few flower stalks. These stalks grow several inches a day until they max out around 5’ before blossoming with hundreds of exquisite little florets in the umbels. I noticed that the young stalks turn their heads in the direction of the sun all day. In the morning, the stalks point to the East. As though they have eyes, they follow the sun and trend to the West in the afternoon. Then, the strange thing happens, as the sun is blocked by the house late in the evening, the Agapanthus flower stalks bend back towards the East again. As I pondered over this odd behavior, I noticed that the setting sun’s light is reflected from our back neighbor’s white garage; it must be this reflection that confused the stalks into bowing to the East instead of the direction of the setting sun. This reminds me of my own confusion with regard to the light that the Lord has given me in the past. I was most grateful and excited when the Lord granted me illumination into His heart about His eternal purpose regarding Christ and the Church. I was so mesmerized by the brightness of the light that I sold myself out to following this light. But due to my spiritual immaturity, I soon neglected the Person who gave the light and ended up following a mere reflection of the light, but not the true source of Light which is a Person. This was a horrendous mistake that exacted a great cost both in my relationship with the Lord and my relationship with others. Even years later, I still cringe just thinking about it. Have I really learned the lesson? I am not so sure. I need the Lord’s mercy to be reminded daily to turn back to Him who is the source of light and revelation. Regardless of the degree of light and intensity of revelation, whenever He is obscured from view (and this happens way more than you think, my friends), we will end up in confusion, counterfeit and darkness. Another thing about my confused Agapanthus, I wanted to see how pliable those flower stalks were in hope that I could bend them back to the setting sun late in the evening. Those stalks were as hard as canes – totally un-pliable as they pointed in the wrong direction. It humbles me. Am I not the same way – stubborn in my perceived light and revelations? Lord, make me pliable; soften my stubborn heart. Thou art the Potter, I am the clay. Just a few more days and the Agapanthus will finally top out and bloom. I look forward to the day when our spiritual lessons finally culminate in glory and grace. Oliver Peng |
 |
| |
 |
| |
 |
| |
 |