Daily Photo Parable

Photo and Commentary ©2024 by Maylan Schurch
Sabbath and Sunday, June 22 and 23, 2024

Last week in this spot I put up two photos. You might call them before-and-after shots, showing the burgeoning of a front-yard flower garden in our housing development.

I got to thinking that maybe you haven’t felt the full effect if this delightful horticulture project, because I’ve been taking the photos from one end of the garden, on the right side. So a couple of days ago I walked across the street and got the wide-angle view you see above.

I don’t know whether these neighbors are Christian, or whether they have factored a divine Creator into their lives in any way. But I do know that they are stewards of God’s beauty.

Photo ©2024 by Amber Jurgensen
Commentary ©2024 by Russell Jurgensen
Thursday and Friday, June 20 and 21, 2024

When Amber showed me this photo, it seemed pretty funny. Apparently, someone poured a fresh concrete curb near a parking spot. It must not have been long before someone drove over one side while it was still wet. Then another car (or maybe the same one) drove over the other side. It even looks like someone stepped on it. It looks like a disaster.

Whatever disaster we find in our lives, we can trust that Jesus will treat us with love and, very importantly, kindness. We have an example of this in the story of the woman brought to Jesus. Here is the last part.

Jesus straightened up and asked her, “Woman, where are they? Has no one condemned you?”

“No one, sir,” she said.

“Then neither do I condemn you,” Jesus declared. “Go now and leave your life of sin.”
John 8:10,11

Maybe there were some simple things that could have been done to avoid the curb disaster like setting some cones around it while it dried. It will be harder to fix now than before. It might be like that in life where some things are hard to fix. But at least we know God is on our side and will give us strength and encouragement.

Photo and Commentary ©2024 by Darren Milam
Wednesday, June 19, 2024

I’m not a frog expert, but I can pretend to be one, for the sake of identification with the power of the internet. Using the world wide web, I believe I have correctly identified my pond friend as a Northern red-legged frog. The best indicators were the size, location, and the red hind legs (you can see in the image). What was making me second guess my identification process was the dark coloring of the frog, given that the description of the Northern, is brown, green, with spots of either more brown or black. As you can see my friend is very dark, if not black in color. For the sake of this writing, the identification won’t make a huge difference, so we’ll go with, “My aquatic companion that watches over my pond”.

In all seriousness, this creation is a miracle. As you may have studied the different life stages of a frog in school, you can recall – egg, hatchling, tadpole and then juvenile to adult stage. These stages aren’t very different than other amphibians, but the miracle is still there. The miracle of life is an astonishing one. The miracle of “afterlife” is even more amazing. The afterlife I am speaking of, is what we have to look forward to in the second coming of Jesus. We have the promise to have a new life, with Him.

When I stop and think of the creation of all the precious creatures God has carefully designed (my aquatic companion included), I know He cares for each one of us, so much. That level of care is a true gift we only have to accept.

1 Peter 5: 6&7
Humble yourselves, therefore, under God’s mighty hand, that he may lift you up in due time. Cast all your anxiety on him because he cares for you.

Thank You, God, for the creations You allow us to experience. Thank You for the precision and detail You put into the creative process. But most of all, thank You for your love and care for each one of Your children.

Photo and Commentary ©2024 by Robert Howson
Tuesday, June 18, 2024

There is a great danger of painting with too wide a brush, of making sweeping statements that may not be true in all circumstances. Having said that, we also recognize the benefits we can receive from generalizations. To illustrate this, let’s start with a simple question. What species do we see illustrated here? Most would answer without hesitation, a chickadee, while those possessing a bit more information would add Black-capped Chickadee. The first response would be correct while the second would not. The reason for that is it is a Carolina Chickadee. The two species look so much alike that sometimes it is impossible to distinguish between the two.

For those interested in the differences a quick lesson will suffice. The Carolina is slightly smaller; it has slightly browner wings; its tail is slightly shorter; in general, it shows less contrast than seen in the Black-capped except its lower bib is more clearly defined. The operative word in this description is “slightly”. The differences are so subtle that even the birds themselves sometimes become confused resulting in hybrid offspring. Many suggest the best way to distinguish between the two species is by their call, but this can be confusing since the hybrids can learn the song of both parents. The joke is, if you see one in the North, it’s a Black-capped. If you see it in the South, it’s a Carolina.

And generally speaking, the rule holds true. But does it hold true for Christians? Can we be identified by the location where we are found? To answer that, let’s refer to a question posed by the prophet Amos. “Do two walk together, unless they have agreed to meet?” (Amos 3:3 ESV) Put another way, if you’ve agreed that following Christ is to be central to your life, wouldn’t you want to place yourself where others wanting the same thing could be found?

Photo and Commentary ©2024 by Cheryl Boardman
Monday, June 17, 2024

I love this quote from Ralph Waldo Emerson: “The earth laughs in flowers.” I think flowers are just beautiful and cheerful, whether you are seeing the whole landscape covered with them or whether you come across just one where you are least expecting to find one.

I was driving on an overcast day a couple of weeks ago and pulled into a rest area to see what wildflowers were blooming in the area. Although I encountered some rain on the trip, it wasn’t raining here at this time but it was obvious, with the lush grass and thriving plants, that this area had received quite a bit of rain this spring. I found this wild columbine blooming in a ditch.

I had already passed quite a few varieties of wildflowers on the trip by this time but I was glad to see the columbines. I had been looking for them on the west side of Stevens Pass the last time I went through but I think it was too early for that altitude.

Sing out your thanks to the LORD;
sing praises to our God with a harp.
He covers the heavens with clouds,
provides rain for the earth,
and makes the grass grow in mountain pastures.
He gives food to the wild animals
and feeds the young ravens when they cry.
Psalm 147:7-9 (NLT)

Photo and Commentary ©2024 by Shelley Schurch
Sunday, June 16, 2024

After a heavy rain my father would announce, “I think it rained money – you’d better check the front yard!” So I, usually with a friend or two, would carefully inspect the edges of the sidewalk which connected our front steps with our front gate.

Sure enough, wedged in between the sidewalk and the lawn on either side we would find several dimes and nickels that we would dig out and pocket for the next time the Popcorn Lady drove her wonderful truck into our neighborhood. (We thought raining cats and dogs was nowhere near as nice as raining dimes and nickels!)

If my father liked someone, young or old, he gave them a nickname. The first time I remember hearing him say my true name was when I was eleven years old and he was applying for a passport for me. When the clerk asked for my full name, he looked at me rather sheepishly before he said, “Shelley Claire Walther.” I think I heard him say “Shelley” two more times after that in the 35 years we knew each other. All other times he called me “Slugger.” Not the most feminine of names, I must admit, but somehow I never minded it.

I knew when he liked my friends because he gave them nicknames, too. I’m not sure all of them appreciated his choice of names, but I think they were rather philosophical about them. We all accepted the fact that my father was a character, and probably not apt to change his ways, or his nicknames, any time soon.

He enjoyed making things for me and my friends. Every spring he would cut new jumping ropes for us from a big bundle in the garage, and make us wood stilts, custom-sized for each of us. Our front yard was a gathering place for kids, including the evenings when he mowed the lawn. We’d all help rake up the grass into one big pile in the middle of the yard, then end the evening with a big grass fight. My friends would run home as their parents called them from their front steps, and my father and I would rake up the grass again before calling it a night.

One of our favorite family stories that my sisters and I included in my father’s memorial service was the time the little girl next door rang our doorbell while we were eating supper to ask, “if Mr. Walther could come out to play.”

I’ve thought about these memories, and more, as Fathers’ Day approached. I started musing about the ways my earthly father gave me a hint of what my Heavenly Father was like.

I see three hints from what I’ve written above. First, my Heavenly Father likes to rain down gifts on me, too. I need to keep my eyes open, ready to notice any surprises He’s planned for my delight.

Every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of the heavenly lights, who does not change like shifting shadows. (James 1:17 NIV)

And God has a name picked out for me – I very much doubt it’s Slugger!

Whoever has ears, let them hear what the Spirit says to the churches. To the one who is victorious, I will give some of the hidden manna. I will also give that person a white stone with a new name written on it, known only to the one who receives it. (Revelation 2:17 NIV)

My Heavenly Father enjoys making things for His children, too:

But as it is written: “Eye has not seen, nor ear heard, nor have entered into the heart of man the things which God has prepared for those who love Him.” (I Corinthians 2:9 NKJV)

My earthly father was not perfect. One of the ways I considered him imperfect was that he wanted me to be perfect.

Awards were handed out in my elementary school for those who had perfect attendance for the whole year, and my father wanted us to get those awards! My mother, who was an RN, had to insist we stay home from school when we were certifiably sick, but he was not happy on those occasions. (However, I knew what would always happen on those sick days: part way through the morning he would leave work and come home with ginger ale and a jigsaw puzzle for me.)

He also wanted me to get perfect grades – straight A’s. One year – third grade, I think — I got a B in Citizenship. My teacher told me this was because I sometimes cried in class – which, of course, made me want to burst into tears! I fought back those tears in case she would lower my grade to a C. (It’s only now that I want to ask her, What does crying have to do with citizenship? And why didn’t she seem interested in why I sometimes cried in class?)

I was so ashamed of being classified as a B citizen that when I brought my report card home, I tossed it up on the top shelf of the wardrobe in my bedroom, out of sight.

Sometimes it takes a while for us to untangle our perceptions of our fathers from that of our Father God. I tried so hard to please my father, to be a daughter he would be proud of – awards and good grades and anything else that would impress him.

But now I know that while my earthly father pushed for perfection; my Heavenly Father provided it. In Jesus. On a cross.

Day after day every priest stands and performs his religious duties; again and again he offers the same sacrifices, which can never take away sins. But when this priest had offered for all time one sacrifice for sins, he sat down at the right hand of God, and since that time he waits for his enemies to be made his footstool. For by one sacrifice he has made perfect forever those who are being made holy.

The Holy Spirit also testifies to us about this. First he says:

“This is the covenant I will make with them
after that time, says the Lord.
I will put my laws in their hearts,
and I will write them on their minds.”
Then he adds:
“Their sins and lawless acts
I will remember no more.” (Hebrews 10:11-17 NIV)

Whew. No wonder the word “gospel” means “good news.”

On this Father’s Day, no matter what our relationships are or were with our earthly fathers, we can rest secure in the love and acceptance of our Heavenly Father, who calls us His beloved children.

Photo and Commentary ©2024 by Maylan Schurch
Sabbath, June 15, 2024

See that white pickup in the photo? I’ve carefully whited out its license plate for privacy purposes, though it might not have been possible to read anyway.

Thursday morning of this week as I was just starting out on my usual post-breakfast walk, I noticed this truck rolling slowly through our neighborhood. It approached me, and paused in the middle of the street. I thought, Here we go. Someone’s going to ask me for directions to an address, and because of the twisty-wind-ey pattern of our development, I’m going to have to tell him I don’t know the exact answer.

But he didn’t ask for directions. Instead, he smiled at me in a kind and humble way, and said a few words. Since his first language didn’t seem to be English, I had to ask him to repeat them.

“I do concrete driveway,” he said.

We were nowhere near my own driveway, and he didn’t know where I lived. He was just throwing out the information in case I needed it. It was a refreshing change from all the people who call my landline every week pretending that I have asked them to come by to give an estimate on some project, which I have not.

I don’t know this man. I’ve never seen him before, and probably won’t see him again, unless he charms a string of my neighbors into doing driveway work for them.

But I liked his approach. He simply offered me a service and asked if I needed it.

And inevitably I started thinking about Christian witnessing. Most times I go to our local library I see two or three Jehovah’s Witnesses standing silently outside the door beside a rack of JW literature. They’re always nicely dressed, and they never accost me with invitations to pick up a tract, probably because they’re not supposed to solicit. Their method seems to be just to stand there, ready and available for people who have questions.

Ever wondered how Jesus wants us to witness? It’s fascinating to watch His own method, in three Bible chapters. In John 3, the Pharisee Nicodemus comes to Him at night, hungry for spiritual conversation with Someone who’s obviously representing God. Jesus flatly tells him, “You must be born again.”

In John 4, Jesus is sitting beside a well when a woman approaches. He doesn’t tell her she must be born again, but He does ask her for a drink of water. A few minutes later her interest has become so deep that she hurries back into town and does some of the New Testament’s most powerful personal witnessing—and the whole town comes out to see and listen to Him.

In John 5, Jesus wanders down beside a pool where a lot of sick people lie sprawled on the pavement. He sees an invalid, but He doesn’t tell the sufferer he needs to be born again, and doesn’t ask him for a drink of water. Instead, Jesus says, “What would you like Me to do for you?”

So how did Jesus witness? And how would He want us to witness? He cared for people, met their needs, and opened the way for them to follow Him.