I stepped outside last night to find the Japanese beetles demolishing the grape leaves, rose bushes and apricot
trees. I grew angry then became sorrowful at the destruction of my dear plants.
I realized, however, that my emotions mourned something greater than the loss of vegetation in my yard. They cried for the loss of human life at the hands of another, violence that has occurred since Creation’s journey began. Violence chosen and wielded by people.
I cried warm tears of sadness and despair.
As I tended to the grape, the rose, and the apricot, I noticed something. Each plant held at its base, new shoots and new leaves–a sign that it had not been completely ravaged by the beetles; rather, a symbol that our Creator is with them, nurturing the opportunity for healing and new growth.
I imagine though that there are evenings when God stands in the garden. pulls off her gloves, and mourns the loss of her creation at the hands of another.