Beware the Ides of March, and, of course, the beginning of pine pollen season.
Southern yellow pine is a collective name that actually embraces four separate pine species. Every spring for millennia past, pine trees have been producing and releasing billions of pollen grains into the air. Overcompensation has proven to be an effective fertilization process for the southern pine, and in this biome, the world is covered with fine yellow dust.
Scientific literature commonly uses the term prolific to describe pine pollen production. It is a nice opportunity to toss in some alliteration, but it does not quite capture the copious fecundity of it all. When the wind direction and speed cooperate with the sultry humidity, one can trace his name on the windshield within minutes after washing the glass. Some years pine pollen swirls in yellow clouds like a dust storm. Pollination season is as ancient as old as the hills. Literally. Ancient pollen was trapped and preserved in sedimentary rock records. Aside from the entombed-in-stone thing, I find that comforting. There is a measure of reassurance in knowing that the processes instituted long ago still work today.
Our church is in a season of change. During this interstitial period where the former pastor has left and the next one has yet to take the helm, there has been a tremendous amount of onstage talk about "something new." That is fine. I do get it. But quite frankly, a lot of people have been running around saying that God is doing something new for many years now. The promise of new is growing old.
Personally, I am ready for some immutability. I would like to see God as the Ancient of Days (Daniel 7:9, 13, 22). I would like to know that the counsel of the Lord stands forever (Psalm 33:11). I would like to hear about the Father of lights, with whom there is no variation or shifting shadow (James 1:17).
Do we really want an endless treadmill of new beginnings? That takes pollen. Pollen is the dust of reproduction. And it is messy. It is carried by flighty winds. It is transported by creepy bugs. And there is so very much pollen, so full of new beginnings, that settles uselessly on my windshields and windowsills. So very many false starts, it wearies the heart.
Perhaps we would not need so many new beginnings if we paid more heed to the ancient truths.
Thus says the LORD, "Stand by the ways and see and ask for the ancient paths, where the good way is, and walk in it; and you will find rest for your souls. But they said, `We will not walk in it.' (Jeremiah 6:16) ...the other route happens to be a toll road, you know.
