The Arid Spaces In Your Life
Stories
Contents
“The Arid Spaces In Your Life” by Frank Ramirez
“You Are the Spitting Image of Your Daddy” by John Sumwalt
The Arid Spaces In Your Life
by Frank Ramirez
Psalm 147
He gives to the animals their food, and to the young ravens when they cry. (Psalm 147:9)
Once when travelling across the American southwest I had occasion to pass through the deserts of New Mexico. To say this is an arid landscape is to put it mildly. Yet even to the untrained eye it is teeming with life, each species not only surviving but flourishing.
It’s also a landscape that’s known destruction on an unbelievable scale. It was the home of the Manhattan Project during World War II and includes the Trinity Site where the first nuclear bomb was exploded. Not far away is a test range for other sorts of bombs.
Yet what seems to be the most forbidding region, the 275 square miles of the White Sands National Park, with its endless vistas of gypsum sands, reflecting the merciless rays of the sun off its desert landscape, far from being inimical to life, is the home to an astonishing variety of plants, invertebrates, reptiles, and warm-blooded animals, all of whom have found their niche.
Here the dunes are constantly shifting. The roads that allow visitors to gaze in awe at the sands would disappear forever if there weren’t plows constantly driven to push away the sands.
There are cacti here, of course, which are legendary when it comes to their ability to store water, as you drive into the area, but these hardy plants can’t survive in the heart of the white dunes. For that you turn to plants like the soapstone yucca, which rise high above the sands that keep shifting. Native Americans roasted the potato-like flowerpots, while the flowers themselves are rich in Vitamin C. The tough fibers of the leaves were woven into sandals, robe, cloth, and baskets. The roots, when chopped and voiced provided soap.
Despite the oppressive heat, Harvester Ants (warning — they sting!) clear up seeds that may have fallen from the plants back to their dens. Darling Beetles scavenge other dead plant material. Walking Sticks, the Toothpick Grasshopper, and the Sand-treader Camel Cricket blend in with the environment. Several breeds of Spider prey on other insects, including the Funnel-web spider, the Apache Jumping Spider, and the Burrowing Wolf Spider.
Always ready to prey upon insects of every sort are the Apache Pocket Mouse, the Bleached Earless Lizard, and of course the several species of birds including the common barn swallow, the black-chinned Hummingbird, the Burrowing Owl, Chihuahua Raven, Loggerhead Shrike, and the Roadrunners.
Red-tailed Hawks slide over the landscape hunting for a meal, including the plentiful lizards and snakes. Most of the latter, including Southwestern Fence Lizard, the Sonoran Gopher Snake, and the Western Coachwhip, are harmless to humans, but keep an eye out for the various types of rattlesnakes, whose rattles are meant to warn you off before the snake feels it must strike.
With all this bounty, it shouldn’t be surprising that hunters like bobcats, coyotes, and foxes find plenty of prey. Fortunately for the Kangaroo Rat (thirteen inches in length including eight inches of tail) it is able up jump up to ten feet when frightened. Meanwhile, the Desert Cottontail, and Black-tailed Jackrabbit rely on speed to survive.
The Badger, which burrows into the sand along the boundaries of the white dunes, isn’t afraid of any predator. And believe it or not, even in this driest of environment lives a fish — the White Sands Pupfish, tenaciously clinging to life in four isolated springs, creeks, and in the Lost River.
With regards to the larger mammals, you’re unlikely to see any of them — they’re too aware of us. Be satisfied if you come across an isolated footprint.
During my visit, twentyyears ago, I was eating a sandwich at one of the picnic benches which are constantly dug out from under the sands, when I had an even more startling sight. Hanging, seemingly motionless, stark, black, and forbidding, I saw something that reminded me of the Bat Plane from some campy, superhero movie. It was the Stealth Bomber, not quite stealthy enough. It hung there for a moment, then suddenly, it was gone.
The people of Jesus’ time were familiar with forbidding landscapes, desert, wasteland, where it seemed only the hardiest species and the most desperate people could survive. Yet the psalmist praises God for caring for animals and birds in forbidding landscapes. And indeed, out of the desert would come John the Baptist to prepare the way for the Messiah, and that Messiah himself would come out of the desert to conquer Satan and save us!
What about the arid spaces in your life?
* * *
You Are the Spitting Image of Your Daddy
by John Sumwalt
Ephesians 1:3-14
In Christ we have also obtained an inheritance, having been destined according to the purpose of him who accomplishes all things according to his counsel and will… (v. 11)
Did anyone ever tell you that you are the spitting image of someone? Has anyone ever said that you are the spitting image of your dad, your mom, or a grandparent? And what is a spitting image?
If you go to Google, you will learn that "the term 'spitting image' is an allusion to someone who is so like someone else as to appear to have been spat from his mouth. The concept and phrase were in circulation by 1689, when George Farquhar used it in his play: 'Poor child! He's as like his own dada as if he were spit out of his mouth.'"
The author of the creation story in Genesis would have us believe that all of us human types are made in God's image, that we are just like God, the "spitting image" of God. And furthermore that "God saw everything that he had made, and indeed, it was very good."
If you have ever doubted this because someone told you it was not true or treated you as if you were anything less than like God, you have been robbed of an essential truth about your identity. You are blessed if you have had people in your life who reminded you over and over again that it is true.
USA Today columnist, Connie Schultz, posted a photo recently showing her little granddaughter being lifted up by her grandfather to see her baby photo. Later, little Jackie announced, “In every room, Grandma, I see how much you love me.”
I watched as our five-year-old grandson, who is the spitting image of his other grandfather, walked around our apartment for the first time in over a year, looking with wonder at the ten images of himself displayed on the sofa table and all over the refrigerator door. That is how you know you belong in this world and that you are cherished, when your picture is on the refrigerator door. You may be sure that the creator of the universe, the giver of all life, has your picture posted eternally in some prominent place, some cosmic refrigerator door. And that when people see it, they will say with all the tenderness of a doting grandparent, "You are the spitting image of your Daddy."
I know this may sound like so much sentimental sap. It seems too good to be true, because we have all sinned and fallen short of the glory in which we were made. We all have moments when we fear that our sin, the harm we have done to ourselves and others, has rendered us irredeemable, no longer worthy of a place on anyone's refrigerator door. This is the universal human condition. We all fall from grace, but more often than not we have grace knocked out of us, usually by the well-meaning, yet imperfect adults around us.
Nobel Prize winning author, John Steinbeck, wrote in his seminal novel, East of Eden, "When a child first catches adults out—when it first walks into his grave little head that adults do not have divine intelligence, that their judgments are not always wise, their thinking true, their sentences just—his world falls into panic desolation. The gods are fallen, and all safety gone."
Stan Mitchel, a clergy person who once pastored a large evangelical church, now devotes his life to supporting gay and trans youth who have been disowned, cast out and damned to hell by their families. The Center for American Progress reports that “There are approximately 1.6 million to 2.8 million homeless young people in the United States, and estimates suggest that disproportionate numbers of those youth are gay, lesbian, bisexual, or transgender. These vulnerable gay and transgender youth often run away from home because of family conflict and then face overt discrimination when seeking alternative housing, which is compounded by institutionalized discrimination in federally funded programs.”
Stan has made himself available to any young person who is struggling with his or her sexual identity. He lets them know that they are loved by God and that they are not a mistake, that like every one of us they are created in the image of God. The essence of Stan’s message is, “You are the spitting image of your Daddy. There is no need to apologize for who you are. You are who God created you to be and you have a right to a full and happy life.”
And of course, Pastor Stan receives push back from parents who cannot believe it. He tells about one father who sent this note to his gay son:
“Stan is asking you to risk your eternal soul. What I am asking is that you let go of this one part of your life for the sake of your soul. I admit, Stan may be right. But there is no way for you or him to be sure of that. The point is, son, if he is wrong, you will face a never-ending hell. If I am right, though, you will go to heaven and be paid back a million times over for everything you gave up here. If I am wrong, the same thing will happen; you will go to heaven and be rewarded and paid back for any ‘unnecessary’ losses you may have incurred in the diligent care of your soul. What I am begging you to understand is this: the most you will risk with the path I’m calling you to is that you will have unnecessarily forfeited romantic, marital love for a few decades here, a love that is not always fulfilling anyway. And like I said, you won’t have lost anything here for Christ’s sake that God will not repay you for multifold in the life to come. With this path, you have heaven at the end either way. The other road is eternally too great a risk.”
I do not know what I would say to a father who would say this to his child, who actually believes this twisted logic, that a loving God could act so monstrously. It is so contrary to the gospel of love that Jesus embodied. I think I would wonder if he ever had his son’s picture on the refrigerator door.
I do not remember if my picture was ever on the refrigerator door. I don’t think that was a thing in the fifties and sixties. But I did have a place of honor on the side of the barn. It was around 1967, when I was a sophomore in high school, that Dad put up a sign that read, “L. SUMWALT & SONS.” There it was, every day when I came around the corner on the way home from school, the assurance that I was valued and loved beyond measure. And I will always believe that Dad would never have taken it down no matter what.
My sister, Ruth, has another view of the sign and rightly so, but that is another story.
The sign is now prominently displayed in our son Orrin’s garage, where he is keeping it for his son, L. Sumwalt, who is named for my dad, his great grandfather.
*****************************************
StoryShare, January 2, 2022 issue.
Copyright 2022 by CSS Publishing Company, Inc., Lima, Ohio.
All rights reserved. Subscribers to the StoryShare service may print and use this material as it was intended in sermons, in worship and classroom settings, in brief devotions, in radio spots, and as newsletter fillers. No additional permission is required from the publisher for such use by subscribers only. Inquiries should be addressed to permissions@csspub.com or to Permissions, CSS Publishing Company, Inc., 5450 N. Dixie Highway, Lima, Ohio 45807.
“The Arid Spaces In Your Life” by Frank Ramirez
“You Are the Spitting Image of Your Daddy” by John Sumwalt
The Arid Spaces In Your Life
by Frank Ramirez
Psalm 147
He gives to the animals their food, and to the young ravens when they cry. (Psalm 147:9)
Once when travelling across the American southwest I had occasion to pass through the deserts of New Mexico. To say this is an arid landscape is to put it mildly. Yet even to the untrained eye it is teeming with life, each species not only surviving but flourishing.
It’s also a landscape that’s known destruction on an unbelievable scale. It was the home of the Manhattan Project during World War II and includes the Trinity Site where the first nuclear bomb was exploded. Not far away is a test range for other sorts of bombs.
Yet what seems to be the most forbidding region, the 275 square miles of the White Sands National Park, with its endless vistas of gypsum sands, reflecting the merciless rays of the sun off its desert landscape, far from being inimical to life, is the home to an astonishing variety of plants, invertebrates, reptiles, and warm-blooded animals, all of whom have found their niche.
Here the dunes are constantly shifting. The roads that allow visitors to gaze in awe at the sands would disappear forever if there weren’t plows constantly driven to push away the sands.
There are cacti here, of course, which are legendary when it comes to their ability to store water, as you drive into the area, but these hardy plants can’t survive in the heart of the white dunes. For that you turn to plants like the soapstone yucca, which rise high above the sands that keep shifting. Native Americans roasted the potato-like flowerpots, while the flowers themselves are rich in Vitamin C. The tough fibers of the leaves were woven into sandals, robe, cloth, and baskets. The roots, when chopped and voiced provided soap.
Despite the oppressive heat, Harvester Ants (warning — they sting!) clear up seeds that may have fallen from the plants back to their dens. Darling Beetles scavenge other dead plant material. Walking Sticks, the Toothpick Grasshopper, and the Sand-treader Camel Cricket blend in with the environment. Several breeds of Spider prey on other insects, including the Funnel-web spider, the Apache Jumping Spider, and the Burrowing Wolf Spider.
Always ready to prey upon insects of every sort are the Apache Pocket Mouse, the Bleached Earless Lizard, and of course the several species of birds including the common barn swallow, the black-chinned Hummingbird, the Burrowing Owl, Chihuahua Raven, Loggerhead Shrike, and the Roadrunners.
Red-tailed Hawks slide over the landscape hunting for a meal, including the plentiful lizards and snakes. Most of the latter, including Southwestern Fence Lizard, the Sonoran Gopher Snake, and the Western Coachwhip, are harmless to humans, but keep an eye out for the various types of rattlesnakes, whose rattles are meant to warn you off before the snake feels it must strike.
With all this bounty, it shouldn’t be surprising that hunters like bobcats, coyotes, and foxes find plenty of prey. Fortunately for the Kangaroo Rat (thirteen inches in length including eight inches of tail) it is able up jump up to ten feet when frightened. Meanwhile, the Desert Cottontail, and Black-tailed Jackrabbit rely on speed to survive.
The Badger, which burrows into the sand along the boundaries of the white dunes, isn’t afraid of any predator. And believe it or not, even in this driest of environment lives a fish — the White Sands Pupfish, tenaciously clinging to life in four isolated springs, creeks, and in the Lost River.
With regards to the larger mammals, you’re unlikely to see any of them — they’re too aware of us. Be satisfied if you come across an isolated footprint.
During my visit, twentyyears ago, I was eating a sandwich at one of the picnic benches which are constantly dug out from under the sands, when I had an even more startling sight. Hanging, seemingly motionless, stark, black, and forbidding, I saw something that reminded me of the Bat Plane from some campy, superhero movie. It was the Stealth Bomber, not quite stealthy enough. It hung there for a moment, then suddenly, it was gone.
The people of Jesus’ time were familiar with forbidding landscapes, desert, wasteland, where it seemed only the hardiest species and the most desperate people could survive. Yet the psalmist praises God for caring for animals and birds in forbidding landscapes. And indeed, out of the desert would come John the Baptist to prepare the way for the Messiah, and that Messiah himself would come out of the desert to conquer Satan and save us!
What about the arid spaces in your life?
* * *
You Are the Spitting Image of Your Daddy
by John Sumwalt
Ephesians 1:3-14
In Christ we have also obtained an inheritance, having been destined according to the purpose of him who accomplishes all things according to his counsel and will… (v. 11)
Did anyone ever tell you that you are the spitting image of someone? Has anyone ever said that you are the spitting image of your dad, your mom, or a grandparent? And what is a spitting image?
If you go to Google, you will learn that "the term 'spitting image' is an allusion to someone who is so like someone else as to appear to have been spat from his mouth. The concept and phrase were in circulation by 1689, when George Farquhar used it in his play: 'Poor child! He's as like his own dada as if he were spit out of his mouth.'"
The author of the creation story in Genesis would have us believe that all of us human types are made in God's image, that we are just like God, the "spitting image" of God. And furthermore that "God saw everything that he had made, and indeed, it was very good."
If you have ever doubted this because someone told you it was not true or treated you as if you were anything less than like God, you have been robbed of an essential truth about your identity. You are blessed if you have had people in your life who reminded you over and over again that it is true.
USA Today columnist, Connie Schultz, posted a photo recently showing her little granddaughter being lifted up by her grandfather to see her baby photo. Later, little Jackie announced, “In every room, Grandma, I see how much you love me.”
I watched as our five-year-old grandson, who is the spitting image of his other grandfather, walked around our apartment for the first time in over a year, looking with wonder at the ten images of himself displayed on the sofa table and all over the refrigerator door. That is how you know you belong in this world and that you are cherished, when your picture is on the refrigerator door. You may be sure that the creator of the universe, the giver of all life, has your picture posted eternally in some prominent place, some cosmic refrigerator door. And that when people see it, they will say with all the tenderness of a doting grandparent, "You are the spitting image of your Daddy."
I know this may sound like so much sentimental sap. It seems too good to be true, because we have all sinned and fallen short of the glory in which we were made. We all have moments when we fear that our sin, the harm we have done to ourselves and others, has rendered us irredeemable, no longer worthy of a place on anyone's refrigerator door. This is the universal human condition. We all fall from grace, but more often than not we have grace knocked out of us, usually by the well-meaning, yet imperfect adults around us.
Nobel Prize winning author, John Steinbeck, wrote in his seminal novel, East of Eden, "When a child first catches adults out—when it first walks into his grave little head that adults do not have divine intelligence, that their judgments are not always wise, their thinking true, their sentences just—his world falls into panic desolation. The gods are fallen, and all safety gone."
Stan Mitchel, a clergy person who once pastored a large evangelical church, now devotes his life to supporting gay and trans youth who have been disowned, cast out and damned to hell by their families. The Center for American Progress reports that “There are approximately 1.6 million to 2.8 million homeless young people in the United States, and estimates suggest that disproportionate numbers of those youth are gay, lesbian, bisexual, or transgender. These vulnerable gay and transgender youth often run away from home because of family conflict and then face overt discrimination when seeking alternative housing, which is compounded by institutionalized discrimination in federally funded programs.”
Stan has made himself available to any young person who is struggling with his or her sexual identity. He lets them know that they are loved by God and that they are not a mistake, that like every one of us they are created in the image of God. The essence of Stan’s message is, “You are the spitting image of your Daddy. There is no need to apologize for who you are. You are who God created you to be and you have a right to a full and happy life.”
And of course, Pastor Stan receives push back from parents who cannot believe it. He tells about one father who sent this note to his gay son:
“Stan is asking you to risk your eternal soul. What I am asking is that you let go of this one part of your life for the sake of your soul. I admit, Stan may be right. But there is no way for you or him to be sure of that. The point is, son, if he is wrong, you will face a never-ending hell. If I am right, though, you will go to heaven and be paid back a million times over for everything you gave up here. If I am wrong, the same thing will happen; you will go to heaven and be rewarded and paid back for any ‘unnecessary’ losses you may have incurred in the diligent care of your soul. What I am begging you to understand is this: the most you will risk with the path I’m calling you to is that you will have unnecessarily forfeited romantic, marital love for a few decades here, a love that is not always fulfilling anyway. And like I said, you won’t have lost anything here for Christ’s sake that God will not repay you for multifold in the life to come. With this path, you have heaven at the end either way. The other road is eternally too great a risk.”
I do not know what I would say to a father who would say this to his child, who actually believes this twisted logic, that a loving God could act so monstrously. It is so contrary to the gospel of love that Jesus embodied. I think I would wonder if he ever had his son’s picture on the refrigerator door.
I do not remember if my picture was ever on the refrigerator door. I don’t think that was a thing in the fifties and sixties. But I did have a place of honor on the side of the barn. It was around 1967, when I was a sophomore in high school, that Dad put up a sign that read, “L. SUMWALT & SONS.” There it was, every day when I came around the corner on the way home from school, the assurance that I was valued and loved beyond measure. And I will always believe that Dad would never have taken it down no matter what.
My sister, Ruth, has another view of the sign and rightly so, but that is another story.
The sign is now prominently displayed in our son Orrin’s garage, where he is keeping it for his son, L. Sumwalt, who is named for my dad, his great grandfather.
*****************************************
StoryShare, January 2, 2022 issue.
Copyright 2022 by CSS Publishing Company, Inc., Lima, Ohio.
All rights reserved. Subscribers to the StoryShare service may print and use this material as it was intended in sermons, in worship and classroom settings, in brief devotions, in radio spots, and as newsletter fillers. No additional permission is required from the publisher for such use by subscribers only. Inquiries should be addressed to permissions@csspub.com or to Permissions, CSS Publishing Company, Inc., 5450 N. Dixie Highway, Lima, Ohio 45807.
