From RevGalPals, who say:
Well, those of us in the United States are on high alert for air travel. Thank heaven, it appears that a huge disaster has been averted. Meanwhile, dreadful conflicts continue in the Middle East and around the world. We here at RGBP certainly hope and pray for safety, peace and fullness of life for all the peoples of the world.
Galatians 5 describes the fruit of the Spirit. With all the sadness and despair out there, we certainly need it! So, the Friday Five is simple. Pick any five of the following attributes and go wherever the Spirit leads you... your choice! Suggestions: When have you experienced this attribute? When have you struggled with it? Or who embodies it for you?
Or if you're feeling light-hearted--just assign a fruit to each one. I think Generosity is a Banana, don't you?
OK, so I wonder if it's just a coincidence that as I start writing about a fruits of the SPIRIT, a huge wind has just kicked up. From my spot in the coffee shop here downtown, I can see the trees bending, rain spitting, and women trying in vain to to hold their skirts down. Maybe this means a break in the heat? I'm tired of waking up with sheets drenched in sweat, and the cats are making such pathetic faces at us it's hard not to grab them up and go spend the rest of the summer at the Holiday Inn.
Umm. Grumpiness is not on that list is it? Too bad, I'm best at that one. OK, down to work.
Joy: The first taste of the sun-warmed blackberry you've just picked from the bush on a morning hike.
Generosity: A blackberry bush full of ripe berries.
Patience: What it takes to root up the blackberry bushes that have overtaken your backyard.
Gentleness: The doctor's touch trying to remove the blackberry thorn points that had worked their way through my leather gloves and into my fingertips.
Self-Control: What blackberry bushes lack in their attempt to take over the world.
For those of you who don't know, I spent most of Lent 2004 digging blackberry bushes out of my backyard in Portland, OR. I never completely won that battle, as the little thorny roots kept shooting up in my flower beds for the next year and a half. I wonder if the folks who live there now are having the same problem? At any rate, that experience left me, umm, shall we say scarred, and with a great appreciation for the metaphor or rooting out our own thorniness.