Photo and Commentary ©2026 by Shelley Schurch
Sunday and Monday, July 26 and 27, 2026
An odd phrase popped into my mind when I saw these daisies; I thought they looked like “frayed flowers.” Not wilted or drooping – frayed.
That’s a word I usually associate with things non-floral, like cords, fabric, and nerves. The latter reminds me of the “you better watch out” declaration: “I have one last nerve and you’re standing on it!”
Dictionary definitions of “frayed” include: “strained by constant stress,” “worn down by strain or irritation,” and “showing the effects of pressure or strain.”
A personal, recent example: I was fine with last Tuesday’s 92° heat, but by Wednesday afternoon the same high heat felt relentless, and I felt frayed (because I felt fried!). I think the daisies in my photo have felt the heat, too.
As is my wont, I thought about people I’ve met in the pages of my Bible. Who came to mind first as someone who seemed frayed? After I pondered, I asked my husband and was astounded that we’d thought of the same person – astounded because he isn’t one of the “big names” in the Bible.
We both thought of Obadiah. Read I Kings 18:1-15 and you’ll see why he came to mind as someone under strain and stress!
The next person I thought of is a “big name” in the Bible. A really big name: Moses. Reading through the book of Exodus, we marvel at the challenges he faced, leading thousands of newly-freed slaves out of captivity, into the desert, on the journey to their Promised Land.
These people were not sitting down in their tents every night, writing three things they were thankful for. They tended to whine and grumble and complain and blame their leader, and his God, for any perceived lack in their liberated lives. All the time they were eating food that faithfully fell from heaven. A pillar of cloud by day and fire by night showed that the Lord continued to travel with them, and guide as well as provide for them.
Yet they grumbled and accused and rebelled and eventually constructed a golden calf to worship. That definitely struck a nerve — God’s nerve:
Then the Lord said to Moses, “Go down, because your people, whom you brought up out of Egypt, have become corrupt. They have been quick to turn away from what I commanded them and have made themselves an idol cast in the shape of a calf. They have bowed down to it and sacrificed to it and have said, ‘These are your gods, Israel, who brought you up out of Egypt.’
“I have seen these people,” the Lord said to Moses, “and they are a stiff-necked people. Now leave me alone so that my anger may burn against them and that I may destroy them. Then I will make you into a great nation.” (Exodus 32:7-10 NIV)
Moses could have said, “Thank you, Lord. I understand your anger. I agree with your new plan.” But he does not leave Him alone. He begs the Lord to relent, giving Him excellent reasons for doing so. And the Lord relents.
But Moses descends from the mountain and finds the situation much worse than he could have imagined. Now his anger burns. A terrible time of reckoning ensues, but then, this incredible scene:
So Moses went back to the Lord and said, “Oh, what a great sin these people have committed! They have made themselves gods of gold. But now, please forgive their sin—but if not, then blot me out of the book you have written.” (Exodus 32:31-32)
I am in awe of Moses’ response and request. Instead of asking the Lord to give him an easier life than leading these stiff-necked, rebellious people, he is willing to intercede for them to the point of giving up his place in God’s kingdom, giving up his life.
Moses wasn’t perfect, but in this scene we recognize his likeness to the One who is.
When things become too much for us, when we feel the stress and strain of life on this perilous planet, perhaps we might want to sit down and write three things we’re thankful for, a trio of blessings.
That reminds me of the Three we’re most thankful for, the Trinity of God the Father, Jesus Our Saviour, and Holy Spirit Guide and Comforter. Whenever we’re frayed, or afraid, we can remember that we are not alone, but known and held and loved with an everlasting love.