worms
The ground was wet from an early rain when I went out for a walk this morning. The asphalt was littered with what looked like twigs from the trees, but there were too many. When I knelt down to investigate I saw that they were earthworms, all stretched out like sticks taking in pools of moisture from the road.
It must have seemed like easy access to water. The asphalt doesn’t have the capacity to absorb the water, so what doesn’t run off just stands there in puddles. So there they were, what must have been hundreds of worms, indulging in the abundance of rainwater. But the further I went, the fewer there were. As the sun rose and the numbers diminished I noticed that for some of them, it was too late. The sidewalk was dry, the sun was shining, and there was no way to get back to the safety of the soil. It was like they got so caught up in what was right in front of them that they forgot that the sun was coming. They didn’t get back to the grass before it was too late.
When I got home and told Dale about it, he asked, “Did you save any of them?” I really wanted to save them, but there were too many. And saving all the worms wasn’t what was mine to do. I had to lift my eyes from their tragedy and keep walking.
I kept thinking about the few that were in little piles of carnage from the birds’ unsuccessful attempts to snatch them, leaving them mutilated in broad daylight. And I tried not to step on any of them, though it was a little like hopscotch. It was all I had to offer, mercy.
“...But I am a worm and not a man, A reproach of men and despised by the people... Be not far from me, for trouble is near; For there is none to help
...He has not despised nor abhorred the affliction of the afflicted; Nor has He hidden His face from him; But when he cried to Him for help, He heard.”
Psalms 22:11, 19, 24 NASB1995
Comments
Post a Comment