Never Clueless

But you are not like that, for you are a chosen people. You are royal priests, a holy nation, God’s very own possession. As a result, you can show others the goodness of God, for he called you out of the darkness into his wonderful light.—1 Peter 2:9 

“I’m surprised you didn’t find the crest,” said high school student Mariah, referencing the pendant necklace borrowed from my colleague for the after-school murder mystery.

“What crest?  Where was it?” cried the students who had just completed the clue-finding circuit.

As leader of the campus ministry, Mariah had orchestrated every last detail of the outreach event and recalled where she had placed it. “In the garbage can in the ladies restroom.”

“The only thing we found in the garbage can was the journal.”

I knew that was true, for I was the one who had RE-placed it there, having rescued it earlier from the custodian’s trash hopper.

A quick check in the restroom confirmed our fears.  The crest was gone.

Trash & Thrash: Separating the Mess from the Message

If you're not familiar with the different definitions of the word thrash, allow me:

1. to beat out
2. to toss about violently
3. to defeat overwhelming
4. to separate grains from husks

Now that I've laid the groundwork, let me tell you about my day of trashing and thrashing.

Yesterday, Margaret (my assistant with the church's treasury work) and I ventured to clean out old files.  As a rule of thumb, anything older than seven years was pitched in a trash heap--unless it was of an official nature, then those were retained--permanently.  I was surprised at how quickly our task was accomplished.

Still blessed with a few hours of sunlight, I decided to tackle some yard work.  My flowerbeds were out of control.  I thinned out irises and then took to thrashing stubborn weeds and uninvited saplings.  It was the only way to pry them from their deep-rooted stance.  Then I grabbed a hold of the spindly zinnias that were well beyond their prime, their droopy faded heads resembling aged corsages saved long after the relationship with the prom date had soured.  Why did I allow them to linger so long? Was it the hint of color that still remained?  Was it my way of hanging onto a piece of summer?