The Christmas cactus sits lonely with branches that once sported a full plumage of white and pink flowers drooping in the corner of the front porch looking alone and forgotten. Its time had come and gone for another year. Who appreciates a Christmas cactus in the middle of spring. The Easter lilies are the stars now, primed and ready to explode in white trumpets of blooms in the back yard. Just another day or so and they’ll will be proclaiming the message of spring and reminding us of Easter. We need reminders of Easter and some explosions of color in these days of isolation.
As I puttered about the yard and then went inside for a drink of water and a little rest, my phone buzzed. I glanced at the screen. It was a notification from my Ring doorbell. There was motion on my front porch. I turned in my recliner to look out the window and saw nothing. I closed my eyes for make sure my eyelids weren’t leaking unexpected light. The phone buzzed again. I should have ignored it, but I didn’t. Motion at the front door again. I pull my yard-work-aching body from the chair and head to the door and step out on the front porch. Nothing out of place here. No packages dropped by the UPS man.
I headed out into the yard, turned to look back at the house. No loose branches hanging down from the storm a few days ago. Everything was just right. Yes, some weeds caught my eye that need to be pulled. Work for another day. Oh well, I guess I’ll just pull a few while I’m out. I’m not going to get a rest anyway. It seems that it is only when our granddaughter is at our house that I get an afternoon nap anymore.
When I raised up with a handful of weeds, something caught my eye on the porch. It was a flash of subdued color headed toward the Christmas cactus. My phone buzzed. Motion at the front door. In a moment or two it flashed by in the other direction. Phone buzzed. Motion at the front door.
Now my curiosity was peaked. I made my way up on the porch and crept slowly to the corner where the Christmas cactus drooped in isolation – banished to “time-out” until next Christmas when it could “perform” again. Buried deep within the cactus was a small nest with what looked like two or three baby birds huddled close together motionless in the face of “stranger danger.” But they were too small to activate the motion detector and they were tucked back in the corner of the porch.
I stepped back and decided to go out into yard and watch for few moments. There was the flash again. The mommy (or daddy) zoomed in and lit on a nearby branch with some kind of goody in its mouth. It eyed me carefully the flew into the nest. Little heads with wide open mouths popped up with enthusiastic peeping. My phone buzzed. Motion at the front door. In a moment mommy (or daddy) was gone. Little heads shrunk quietly back into hiding. The scenario repeated itself several times in the next half hour as I stood and watched. New life was coming from a “timed-out” isolated Christmas cactus stored in the corner of the porch until it would be “useful” again. Soon the young birds will escape the nest and fly off into a new and wonderful life.
As we tolerate and adjust the isolation of social distancing and the difficult times in which we find ourselves, there is always the promise of “new life.” We have all been placed in a “time-out.” But that doesn’t mean we can’t be conduits and witnesses of new life. God has planted His Spirit within us just as the birds built a nest in the middle of the old cactus plant. Though we might feel isolated and maybe useless during this difficult time, God’s Spirit will fly into the middle of our struggles and bring new life to our souls. He will nourish us with His presence and when He thinks we are ready, he will turn us loose on the world once again to spread His joy, peace, grace and love. Be assured today, there is light at the top of the nest. The Spirit zooms in and out to bless us. There will motion at the front door once again.
Maybe, like the baby birds, we need to pop our heads up out the isolation and peep as loud as we can so others can experience our hope – God’s hope.
Rev. J. Pete Hyde, Senior Pastor
Santa Rosa Beach Community Church
850-267-2599; srbcc.com