One year my parents gave me an Ant Farm for Christmas, I think I was 9. What the heck? Yet 40+ years later, here I am referring to it. The ant farm was really pretty fascinating; watching the ants move in succession, moving piles of dirt, digging new tunnels. Each ant had a purpose and that purpose without hierarchy was to just work.
If we put ourselves in the “Ant Farm” box, what picture do we portray to God? The image that flashed across my mind was exactly like the one of the ants moving and digging their tunnels, but we, being a higher life form than an ant, we were meant to excavate for a reason. What is it we are trying to unearth?
Psalm 39:6 states that “man is a mere phantom as he goes to and fro; he bustles about, but only in vain. He heaps up wealth, not knowing who will get it.” The worldly way of years of toiling has many of us gaining riches by grabbing and stockpiling our treasures, saving for that “day.” This was not what I believe God intended. God specifically says that we should be instead giving and releasing, and then ultimately trusting that He will provide for us. It seems that we are like the ants, concerned with only the task at hand, thereby letting the work enslave us. The work has become our master. We were created for more than this!
Just this morning I had a glimpse of the joy that awaits us. In my journal I described it as a source of pleasure that resonated within me as I allowed myself to bask in God’s glory. I felt like I was on a threshold and wondered at what was holding me back! There was a sweetness of presence that was almost more than I seemed to be able to comprehend. The view was a simplistic one, the sun dappled on my pond’s waterfall. The ripples of water were kissed with diamonds of sunlight, the air was cool, the deckwoods still dark from the rain of the previous evening and the greenery was lush in its new splendor. My heart actually quickened in the desire to explore that space (with my camera) and in assigning it a “task” it shattered the moment. I stood sadly, losing that “moment” forever. I was sorry that I had not allowed myself the tranquility of resting in that moment of serenity. Then I was blessed again. I went for a walk with my two goldens and once on the bike trail I felt the warmth of the sun caressing my back, as a cool breeze wafted through the leaves. Upon closer inspection of the leaves I noticed the sparkle of raindrops that still clung to the them, resisting the efforts of the breeze to whisk them away. Again, I felt this freshness of spirit. This to me is the meaning of wealth. To be able to feel and savor the pureness of presence and it is now the reason I will never again just resort to work being my master. Work, it seems such a harsh word, one devoid of any of the joy I just mentioned. No, joy doesn’t pay the bills, my point isn’t that employment isn’t necessary; my point is that we need to be able to take the time and experience the blessings rather than just stockpiling tangibles. I write to share the beauty, not to criticize my fellow ants.
Looking up!~ Barb
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