Christmas Cactus

           There’s a tall maple outside my bedroom window, not as tall as it was a few years ago when the “professional” tree cutters hacked it. (We DIDN’T go to Angie’s List.) Thankfully, it recovered, as it’s one of the few mature trees still standing on my block. Several years ago, a summer storm knocked down a few trees, including one through my mother-in-law’s living room window. But that’s a story for another day.

            I love my tree, especially in summer when its green leaves provide a privacy curtain and make me feel as if I’m living in a tree house. And I love it in autumn with its golden and browning leaves. That’s how it looked Tuesday morning, November 5, when I left for school. That’s the day I broke my ankles. By the time I returned home Friday, November 15, after two surgeries and staying in two different hospital rooms and one rehab room, the tree was bare.

            My mourning for the tree was comforted by my Christmas cactus, which sits on the bedroom windowsill. While the maple undressed for winter, the cactus adorned itself with fuchsia blooms.

            Whenever my Christmas cactus blooms, I think of Sandy and her middle school science students. It was during my first year at Watsontown Christian Academy when one afternoon eighth-grader Amber brought me a Styrofoam cup of dirt with a small green stalk. The class had planted cuttings and now gave the extras to all the teachers.

            I kept the cup on my desk, occasionally remembering to water it, never noticing any growth. More than once, I considered dumping it in the trash, but I finally took it home and planted it in a real pot with more dirt. I was surprised and delighted when a new leaf formed.

            Fourteen years and several new, larger pots later, the plant crowds my bedroom windowsill. I become excited whenever the blossoms appear, never more so than this year. Remembering how small and ordinary it looked when I received it, I marvel at its mature majesty.

            In several parables, Jesus compared the Kingdom of God to a growing plant which begins puny and becomes powerful. (Mark 4:26 – 32) In fact, the theme of small beginnings runs throughout Scripture: A childless older couple, Abraham and Sarah, became a great nation. A shepherd, the overlooked youngest of eight sons, founded a royal and eternal dynasty. A baby born to a poor young Galilean woman became the redeemer of humankind.

            “Does anyone dare despise this day of small beginnings?” Zechariah 4:10, The Message

The Amazing Apostle

Reading comic books as a child, I learned the source of Superman’s strength: He was born on the planet Krypton which orbited a red sun. When he came to Earth, our yellow sun gave him superpowers. I followed his adventures on our black and white television as George Reeves flew around in ill-fitting leotards, and years later in Technicolor on the big screen as Christopher Reeve sported a more expensive and better tailored costume.

As a teen, I discovered Spiderman comics. Though an ordinary human, Peter Parker gained amazing strength when a radioactive spider bit him. I watched his animated series with my younger brother—it might have been in color, but we still had a black and white TV—and the catchy theme song still bounces around in my brain:

Spiderman, Spiderman, friendly neighborhood Spiderman…

Is he strong? Listen, Bud. He’s got radioactive blood…

Good rhyming poetry sticks with a person.

Of course I saw the Tobey Maguire movies, and I plan to see the newest incarnation of the Amazing Spiderman, starring Andrew Garfield. (Who is he?)

I also admire heroes other than those in comic books. I enjoy reading the apostles’ adventures in Acts. I marvel at Paul, who seems to be a New Testament superhero.

What gave Paul the power to preach and plant churches, heal the sick and raise the dead, survive shipwrecks and beatings, and write for the bestselling book of all time?

More astounding than the sun’s color or a spider’s venom, Paul’s strength came from his weakness.

At first Paul struggled against a limitation, which he called “a thorn in the flesh,” until Jesus assured him, “My grace is all you need. My power works best in weakness (2 Corinthians 12:9, NLT).” Paul described that power as the force that raised Christ from the grave—talk about superpowers!—and Paul declared it’s available to every believer (Ephesians 1:19 – 20).

With Christ’s muscle, instead of reading about superheroes, I can be one. And so can you. What heroic deeds are scheduled for today? Listen to a friend. Smile at a stranger. Meet a need. Love an enemy. Keep my mouth shut. The Bible is bursting with ideas for superheroes.

But let’s just wear our regular clothes, okay?

“Not by might nor by power, but by my Spirit,” says the LORD Almighty.  Zechariah 4:6, NIV