Climb

We are climbing Jacob’s ladder,
We are climbing Jacob’s ladder,
We are climbing Jacob’s ladder,
Soldiers of the cross.

Every round goes higher, higher,
Every round goes higher, higher,
Every round goes higher, higher,
Soldiers of the cross.

 

My spinach is teaching me a lesson in climbing.   The plant I am growing is not true spinach, but Malabar Spinach – a very different plant in botanical terms, but similar (I am told) in taste.  I choose to grow it because regular spinach is not built to handle Georgia’s hot summers.

Before I planted it, I had read that Malabar Spinach is a fast grower.  I laughed about that idea as I watched the tiny seedlings slowly poke their heads out of the ground (a week or two after I had given up on their growing at all).  I became even more skeptical after I repotted them, as I saw their leaves faithfully but gradually expand in size.  I was beginning to wonder if I had gotten a shrub variety by mistake, when one day, I saw a tiny stem reaching for the makeshift trellis (a side of an old dog pen) I had set up for it.  It was all over after that.  In no time, the trellis was full of vines speeding up and beyond the top, reaching for new heights to climb.

Sometimes I wish my own personal climb were nearly as fast.  I wish I were as bent on climbing as my Malabar Spinach.  These vines have help from heaven.  It is in their nature to grow, and they would be unhealthy doing otherwise.  Like them, we too are meant to grow. We have been created with an inborn craving to be more, to be better and to connect with something that is bigger than we are.

At the same time, we may find ourselves resisting.  The climb takes effort.  We would like to think of ourselves in grand terms, but the truth is, we human beings can be rather small.  We can be petty.  We retaliate when we are angry.  We walk away rather than reconcile.  We bend the truth to favor our point of view.  We work to win an argument rather than find clarity and common ground.  We allow our emotions to run away with us. 

We have the potential to climb heavenward, but the truth is it is much easier to stay small, to remain a shrub.  We know ourselves as a shrub.  Granted there isn’t much to know: just a few stalks and leaves.  We feel we have a grip on life and we know our place in it.  If we start reaching skyward, there is no telling the dangers we might open ourselves to.   The things that are out there beyond the beautiful blue might be either terrifying or wonderful.  We might realize how great our God-created universe is.  We just might realize how small we are. Much easier to keep our perspective undersized and imagine ourselves large.

Still, we are called to increase.  To grow.  To climb.  To forego the comfortable selves we used to be in order to become something that God has in mind.  More important, we are called to know the real world around us in order to see ourselves and others in proper perspective.

And so we do the work of growth.  We spend the time with God in prayer and study.  We observe the mysteries of the universe and we learn to be content in our corner of it.  We learn to favor the truth above personal advantage, reconciliation over being right.  When the opportunities come, we make the hard choices.  We do what we know to be best.  We eat our . . . well . . . spinach.  There must be help in heaven for us too.

I haven’t eaten much of my spinach yet.  I have put some in an omelet with fresh tomatoes and mozzarella cheese.  Wonderful!  This weekend, I’m going to try it in a salad with a few strawberries from the garden. 

Blessed eating!