Hidden Wealth

  

And He said, “My Presence will go with you, and I will give you rest.”  Exodus 33:14

From where does the label “white elephant” come?  Once again, the lazy researcher in me is grateful for the internet!  Because of Google and wonderful Wikipedia, this is what I found straight from Wikipedia: “A white elephant is an idiom for a valuable but burdensome possession of which its owner cannot dispose and whose cost (particularly cost of upkeep) is out of proportion to its usefulness or worth.”  So today I discovered a definition somewhat opposite than what I had always believed to be a “white elephant” --  an item that really isn’t worth much to the owner, but sold or given away to someone else who appreciates its worth.

The origin of the white elephant is Southeast Asia where ruling kings owned white elephants.  White elephants are also important in Buddhist theology, but I won’t go into all of that here.  My white elephant looks very much like the white elephants of Southeastern Asian paintings.  Its ornamentation assumes some kind of royal standing…the howdah (a new word I learned today!) is the seat upon the elephant’s back where the monarch might sit and also attested to the wealth of that ruler.

My husband gave me this white elephant several years ago when he was still working with the Kansas National Education Association.  Every year, the staff would hold a “white elephant” Christmas party.  The idea was to get rid of something that didn’t cost much – sometimes the gifts were at least useful – sometimes they were “duds” unless one saw hidden worth.  (Remember the adage, one man’s trash is another man’s treasure?)  Bob knew the hidden “wealth” of this elephant immediately. Remembering his kooky collector wife who tends elephants, he latched on to this gift right away! Hard to imagine a more ironic context in which to receive this particular elephant!  I use it as a bookend, and wish I had another matching one.  (You know that elephants are like potato chips – you can’t just have one!) Okay, I plagiarized that from a sign I saw recently about cats.  But I digress.

This morning, as I was really examining this elephant—one of the little pleasures of doing this each Friday—I noticed the detail of its ornamentation and that’s of course, when I took special notice of the howdah – I used my new word again!  I imagined the elephant’s strong, solid, capable body carrying me on its back.  I imagined the swaying motion – perhaps enough to make me motion-sick, but nevertheless quite a ride! For some reason this imagery brought to my mind the popular “Footsteps” prayer of controversial origin. It’s a lovely prayer yet I don’t feel quite right about copying it on this blog but if you want to read it all you have to do is Google! The message of that prayer is clear…Christ carries us through all circumstances even those (especially those!) that might make us sway a bit! Most of the time, it isn’t until the gift of hindsight touches us that we realize how He carried us through.

Lord, you are surely an awesome God…more powerful and strong than any elephant; surely your presence is more indicative of true wealth than any “howdah” or ornamentation. 

So here’s the deal. Daily acknowledging His presence in my life, I am given rest, and I am a wealthy woman indeed! 

Cut From the Same Mold

I’m tempted to write about my elephant cookie cutter; the one I got without the donkey during an election year.  Though my progressive mind leans toward the donkey’s policies, the elephant fits better in my collection!

The problem with writing about that elephant cookie cutter, is that I immediately think of the donkey I left behind which then results in my thinking about the polemic hyperbole in which our politicians engage today. Then I get caught up in my own hyperbolic diatribe and there goes any kind of spiritual lesson.  After all, my “elephant Fridays” were my intentional commitment to explore spiritual ideas through something seemingly so unrelated: my elephant collection.

So apart from the political context in which the cookie cutter was purchased, how might I make it a spiritual story?  Well yesterday as I was musing over this, I came up with several different spiritual ideas the cookie cutter metaphor might represent.  But it was the following idea that stuck with me.

A cookie cutter cuts many cookies. One ball of dough can become many individual cookies.  God is the ball of dough, each cookie is an individual part of that dough.  If one were to decorate the cookies, one could make each one very different. Which in a sense, is what God did with each of us…though most of us might argue with the “ornamentation” He chose to use!  

Anyway, if all the cookies are put together they once again become the whole ball of dough, i.e. God.  The whole is greater than the sum of its parts and the whole takes on a completely different character or essence than the sum of its parts.  In other words a ball of dough could be made into 15 cookies.  The sum of the parts would be 15 individual elephants (in the case of this cookie cutter). But the whole (the ball of dough) is a totally different entity. 

With this in mind, is there any way I can truly condemn those I find despicable among us?  If I believe that God is love, and God created me in His image, as He did every other person on this earth—because He loves, remember—how can I then believe that even the vilest person on this earth is worth any less to God than I am? (After all, I am so very holy and worthy! NOT!)

If I believe God’s grace extends to all – and I DO believe that, I must believe that yes, even men like Rush Limbaugh (dare I say it?) will be with God eternally.  If I believe anything less than that, I can’t really believe that God so loves the world… and I certainly don't believe in His amazing grace.  Thanks be to God, the whole is greater than the sum of His parts.  That gives me hope.

Persistent Love

I’m not much of a garage sale nut, but I know a lot of people who are, and sometimes one will find a unique item not to be found just anywhere, including elephants!  I have my “garage-sale addict” friends to thank for many of the elephants in my collection. Not quite 20 years ago, a teacher colleague of mine, who knew I collected elephants, bought this mother/baby pair at a garage sale.  There’s nothing really remarkable or valuable about them; they’re made of plastic and the baby elephant has a broken ear and trunk.  My friend purchased them anyway, confident that I would like them and include them in my collection, and she was right.

It’s particularly fitting that, at the time, we both were teachers at an early childhood center that integrated children with and without disabilities. In the eyes of the world, some of the children who came to us were surely “broken”, physically, mentally or emotionally.  A few of the children were difficult to love; some were difficult to look at.  But they all had one thing in common: a mother who loved them anyway, often intensely. 

Children with disabilities bring forth a myriad of emotions in their parents: guilt, frustration, anger, depression, anxiety to name just a few.  I know this only from observing and experiencing vicariously.  Graciously, God did not choose me to be a parent of one of these children. While it was not always apparent, I like to think that He had better people in mind for such children. And most of these parents were remarkable people.  Soft-spoken women became fierce advocates for their children.  On their good days, optimism was never stronger; on the bad days their anger might take a jab at those around them—including us, the teachers of their children.  Watching these extraordinary parents and teaching their challenged sons and daughters was an ongoing object lesson to me of God’s persistent love.  Perhaps more so now, as I can look back without the baggage of thoroughly present emotions.  And the lesson is this:

Aren’t we all broken in some way?  But God loves us intensely and persistently. And it’s the persistent part that amazes me! Even more than those mothers who persistently believed the very best in their children, God loves us in all our brokenness and never gives up on us.  He loves us forever!  Jesus promises such in the very last verse of the gospel of Matthew: “And surely I am with you always, to the very end of the age.”  Matt. 28: 20.  He loves those children, their parents, me, you, all of us persistently until the end of time when all of us will be together, whole and holy!

I wrote the poem below about such a “broken” child when I saw her later as a young adult.  She had a very rare and often regressive syndrome which only affects girls. The poem is like most of my poems -- I'm not truly satisfied, or feel I'm finished.  But I felt compelled to post it today for this child's  mother was probably one of the most beautiful, Christian people I ever knew and she exemplified persistent love beautifully.  

Angel

She’s twenty-something but her face is of a child

angel; unseen wings lift her up beyond

the rest of us. Her speech—the grunts

and groans—is only known

by the One Who Knows All Things,

as why He touched her in such a way at birth.

I like to think the persistent dribble on her perfect chin

is God’s weeping tear—grieving that He chose

to let this angel live among us earthly souls. 

But her mother knows 

He holds those troubled hands—so scarred

from years of gnawing. 

I’ve never been where this angel's been

but at rare times, I read the story in her eyes.  

Privileged to be witness to such holy verse.

The one that began it all

One of the pleasant results of writing about a specific elephant (or group of elephants) each Friday is that I’m caused to examine each one in a way I’ve never done.  I notice characteristics I never appreciated before.  I’m also led to deeper thinking about my spiritual life and the innumerable ways God works to achieve His purposes in my tiny, insignificant life.

Had I not received this particular elephant some 30 years ago, would I have amassed the more than 120 elephants in my collection now?  Would I have these mementos of various events and relationships throughout my life?  Probably not.   This collection gives me a creative opportunity to relive special experiences, to remember particular relationships in a way that might not have been available otherwise.

That’s why this elephant--the one that began it all--is especially meaningful to me.  It was a gift to me from my youngest brother and his first wife…at the time just a random stone carving to sit on our coffee table.  And for awhile that’s all it was.  Leave it to Mom to start the collection rolling when she gave me the elephant mama and baby of which I wrote about on February 4, of this year.   Thanks Mom!

Anyway, as I was gazing at this elephant this morning, a scripture verse popped into my mind-- “He who began a good work in you will bring it to completion by the day of Jesus.”  Philippians 1:6.  What a promise, so full of hope!  I think the reason why that verse came to mind is that the day I received this very elephant, was the “birth” of my elephant collection. (I suppose one could also argue that there was not collection until I received the next elephant and my intention of collecting elephants began.)

Even so, everything has a beginning.  And it begins with presence.  This elephant’s presence marked the beginning (although unknown at the time) of a unique collection. So it is with each of us and our unique relationship to God and His glory.  God’s presence—even without our knowing—began a “good work” in each of us which continues to growinto whatever God intends…always and only for His glory.  This in spite of ourselves! And though I often lose hope or sight of it, Paul's words in Philippians remind me and always I am comforted.