Lacks and Less-Thans

Beauty grew profusely under my mother’s care—the garden breathed, the color and texture was so rich. The tiger lilies, stella de oros, echninacea, bleeding hearts, and Japanese maple centered the attention. Yet, the garden would not be complete but for the broad leaves of the humble hostas, and the vinca's and snow on the mountain's quiet carpet.

Perhaps the vinca, with its diminutive flowers, dark foliage, small stature—perhaps it feels a less than. Looked down. Not meeting its full potential. Overshadowed by the great tiger lilies. We, sometimes, too. Just a less-than. A what-could-have-been. What could have... if we hadn’t been tied down with children, hadn’t had a certain circumstance arrive, hadn’t had illness sap strength. Or, perhaps, a failure. We erred, got caught up with the wrong crowd, made wrong decisions, or made a wise risk but which fell through.

Big or small, less-thans, failures, and guilt can--allowed--breed regret, guilt, hanging condemnation, even foment shame.

Yet, the Gardener's hand can pull back the curtain and give us glimpse into a counter-intuitive beauty. We can be grateful for failures and even less-thans. Grateful. Gift. Really? Lord, these lacks and less-thans, the dreams once cherished can crush. I longed. People looked. I dissapointed, disappointing. The heart bleeds without the vibrant color-beauty of the garden's bleeding hearts. Grateful? Is this all? What about my gifts, dreams, desires? The brain that is melting, stripped of myelin in malabsorption?  The muscles that refuse to move? The pen that is dropped, the word-rhymes that are lost, the heart-message that is bleared in pain?

Gift, says the Gardener. Grace. 

Really?

"Look, child. They may be my warning call of grace." Lacks and less-thans can wave warning signs of the fear of man or our own perfectionistic standards. Who did we really disappoint? Did we really fail, or just by _____ standards? Who are we really seeking to impress? The Lord doesn’t want an impression; he wants faithfulness. He doesn’t want a vinca dressed in lily clothes; he wants a vinca.The vinca need not quiver under the tiger lily's shadow, but only in the shadow of the Gardener's hand.

"See, my little vinca. Less-thans and lacks can be my gift of mercy." They may keep us from far greater sins. Wealth is oft desired, but few are the rich who enter the kingdom of heaven (Matt. 19:23-24). Popularity is sought, but narrow is the gate to heaven (Matt. 7:14). Pride goes before destruction (Prov. 16:8). It was the rich fool, successful and content, who did not realize his poverty, as was the case with the Laodicea (Luke 12:13-21; Rev. 3:14-21). Could we handle gaining the whole world, gaining _____, and not lose our soul? Not let it become an idol? We may never see this gift of mercy, we may never know what we could have fallen into, but we can trust the Master Gardener in his sovereignty and his desire for our great good, the holiness with which to see him. 

"Hear, my daugther. My garden would not be complete without the vinca." The body of Christ would not be complete without your unique spiritual gift. There is a reason you have your hair color, build, genes, position, place in this year, this moment—so that some might reach out and find him (Acts 17:26-28). Even our feelings of less-than are part of that. The vinca is needed by the Gardener's design.

"Delight, my small one. These lacks and less-thans are a gift, opening to the far greater." We may learn the greatness of the Lord, his all-satisfying nature. For if we are glutted on our own success, filled with our own wisdom, satiated with what our own hands produce, will we truly hunger and thirst after him? He, he, himself! The greatest joy, truly. Would we not bear any lack, less-than, small stature, failure if it meant we know more of him, whose love is better than life? And not only in the present, but for all of eternity?  Perhaps the vinca from the ground may have a far greater perspective on all of eternity.

So, the vinca cannot fall into self-pity, for it has a specially crafted role. It cannot fall into regret or condemnation, for all is forgiven and is even used for its eternal good (yes, even sin in the hands of an all-powerful God; Rom. 8:28). (And nor can it fall into boasting, for all gifts are from the Lord—even humility. Although boasting is more the tiger lily’s sinful tendency.) It cannot fall into living in the past, of what-could-have-beens, for it has a purpose to serve today.

And there, there in that fine balance that can be hard to find, is true contentment. A contentment springing from trust in the Gardener’s hands, that he has crafted it uniquely, is using it specially and specifically, that he wants it to be a vinca and not a Japanese maple. Then, in that peaceful rest in the Gardener’s hand, there is true beauty. The vinca glows; his vinca, no more, and no less. But his--and what is more desired? His.