At the very end of this is a short version of
"Psalm of the Week."
Some time ago:
The grapevine leaves had started to take over. I decided to trim them back.
Innocent, productive task, right?
Actually this photo is after I trimmed some.
Straight down is a hornet's nest.
Right below the t of the word hornet's in the top line.
I didn't see the hornet's nest because when I first went out,
the vines and leaves were so thick,
my full attention was on them.
So there I was, minding my own business cutting and pulling,
when my right hand felt like it'd been bitten.
I yelped and dropped the vine and checked out my hand.
Yep, a tell-tale little, red bump.
I went in the house and treated it.
Then out I went again. I just figured my hand had gotten in the way
of a sting critter checking out the grapes.
It wasn't until several hornets swooped past my head
that I thought to look up.
Ooops! and Duh! rolled into one!
There wasn't any more trimming that day
and for the next few days until Mike sprayed the nest
and got it down.
However. . . I did get my camera!
I have a point beside telling you about
a hornet's nest.
Look at the photo to the left.
A serene scene.
I went outside to do a job,
not expecting to get 'hurt'.
Yet when I least expected it,
I got stung.
Why wasn't I wearing gloves?
Because I couldn't clip and grasp
as well with them on.
So I bared my hands.
The previous week I had been stung
also.
But it was by a person.
The same scenario: I was good-heartily performing a task,
in a great mood, all expectant
for a good outcome.
I opened wide the door to my heart.
Then when I least expected it,
my heart got stung. Really stung
hard.
I had my eye on the luscious fruit of my toil. But someone else had other ideas. I was stunned. In pain, I retreated into a bit of a shell. That's often what I do when emotionally hurt. I wasn't going to talk about it, but in an unexpected turn of events, I did. Mike and I had stopped to visit friends going through a rough time. At some point, I just blurted it out. The friend then loosened up on some stuff she was dealing with. We ended up laughing and when I left, we both felt better. I didn't speak about it with anyone else, especially
the person who hurt me. I didn't trust myself to handle that scenario well.
I did pray about it and asked God to help me forgive,
to understand why or at least accept what the person did,
and move on.
God answered my prayer. Eventually the person told me of the frustration
she/he was experiencing at the time. I never talked of my frustration.
I just listened and I did get a touch of understanding--not fully,
but that's okay.
I accepted the situation and the person, and I forgave and moved on.
I'm not even certain that the person knew I was hurt.
I do know the hurt was not intentional.
I'm glad I didn't make a big issue out of it.
There was a time when I would have
"shouted it from the rooftop!"
(not really, but I think you get the point.)
I've learned not to do that.
I really work on going to God first and only.
Sometimes, I end up telling someone,
usually my husband.
This time I hurt too much to put words to the pain.
I did accidentally 'spill the beans'.
God used that spill to minister to me and my friend.
Isn't He good?! Even when we aren't.
Life is like that.
We get up and go about our lives with good intentions.
We're happy and content.
Life is wonderful.
Then the 'hornet' stings.
We have several ways we can handle that sting.
I've found a better way at age 57 than I knew to do in my 30s.
If only I'd gone to God more then.
But the "if onlys" are useless.
What's done is done.
The best action is to learn from that mistake(s)
and move on with life.
I'm endeavoring to do that.
Sometimes less is more.
I'm hoping that is the case with my short version
of
"Psalm of the Week:"
Behold, thou desirest truth in the inward parts:
and in the hidden part
thou shalt make me to know wisdom.
Create in me a clean heart, O God;
and renew a right spirit within me.
Psalm 51: 6, 10