May 29 – “The evil interloper”

We had a major revelation concerning 40 Steps yesterday.  That’s the name of the vacant lot next door.  We have no idea why it is called 40 Steps, though.  Our young grandson Josiah named it quite some time ago out of the depths of his imagination, so there is really no telling what his motivation was.  He is the one who had the revelation as well.  He and Chris went out into the front so he could ride his bike.  As they passed the oleander bush that is in full bloom, he stopped dead in his tracks.  “What happened to 40 Steps, Nana?”  Slightly confused, Chris responded, “It’s right there, where it’s always been.”  Now a bit frustrated, Josiah pressed on, “But what happened to it?  It’s … it’s … it’s … full of grass.”  And the word “grass” was spoken like it was foul and evil and corrupting.  For the first time we had a sense of what he might have meant in his original christening of the site.  Actually we still have no clue where the name itself came from, but now we know that it has something to do with the sand that covered the place originally.  The grass is a major interloper that is ruining his entire concept.  Actually, we are excited to have that particular interloper.  As long as the stickerburs stay away. 

What a great picture of the sociology of a community.  There was a major change when the house was finally torn down.  The lot became 40 Steps, a brand new designation.  And the new became the norm, sand and buried treasures and all.  But now there is a new change that actually brings it back closer to the way it used to be, grass is growing.  And that new change is now the evil interloper.  Sounds an awful lot like the way things work in a neighborhood.  Or a church.  Or among any established group, I guess. 

Matthew 18:2-4 says, “He called a little child and had him stand among them. 3 And he said: ‘I tell you the truth, unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven. 4 Therefore, whoever humbles himself like this child is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven.’”

Father, thank you for what we have.  Sometimes it looks different.  Sometimes it … changes.  Thank you for the change, too.  Amen.