A few days ago my son and I broke up a concrete pathway at the front of our home. A few days later we loaded it up and carted it to our local tip. It took 3 loads to get the job done. For some reason, I enjoy the occasional trip to the tip, the piles of tires, old washing machines, building waste, furniture, and every other type of waste, along with the various mildly noxious smells. Not to mention the interesting characters you run into at the tip.
It’s great not to have to dress for the occasion. And there’s a great “men’s feel” thing about it. Tips are definitely a man thing.
As we were getting to the last few bits of concrete I noticed a moth had been caught under the rubble. It must have been in the trailer as we loaded the heavy broken chunks. It wasn’t particularly striking as an insect. Just a good sized, brown, half dead moth. I pointed it out to my son. We ridiculed it’s plight and hopeless state, and threw it off the trailer, along with the rest of the concrete.
For some reason I started to think about the seemingly pointless end this creature had come to, after who knows what sort of life it had already experienced. I wondered about hopes and dreams being shattered, and the protracted suffering it may have endured prior to dying at a tip.
I wondered about the plight of countless other creatures, large and small, that go largely unnoticed by humanity, and then wondered about the plight of countless humans who also have lives, hopes and dreams, and then also suffer untimely deaths sometimes due to natural disaster, but also due to illness, or violence, especially in war.
I also thought about the abundance of creation as I looked at our tip.
Ugly piles of rubbish were quickly being overtaken by grass and wild flowers, as this years rainfall has been above average, bringing with it an explosive spring.
I thought about floods, plagues of locusts, giant schools of fish and flocks of birds, and generally a creation that is bursting at the seems with the sheer volume of life propagating itself.
And then I simply thought about God. Knowing that he is not remote from his creation, but always present.
“Are not two sparrows sold for a penny? Yet not one of them will fall to the ground apart from the will of your Father. And even the very hairs of your head are all numbered. So don’t be afraid; you are worth more than many sparrows.”
Matthew 10:29-31, NIV.
Nothing in creation is pointless. Everything points to our creator. Even this moth, ended it’s life, somehow reminding me that God is wonderful, and that his grace is ever flowing to me, sustaining me, giving me purpose.