Susan LaffertyExiles in Babylon.
God’s Word to them felt deeply personal to us. During a particularly violent and unsettling season.
People were leaving our city. Families sent back to their home countries. Anti-American sentiment had ramped up more than ever.
Should we leave?
At one point my dad—who never, ever tried to interfere or direct us in any way—wrote “In my daily Bible study I keep seeing the words, ‘Flee Babylon…flee Babylon.” (Jeremiah 49:30; 50:8,16; 51:6)
In December, a treasured necklace from Japan falls on the floor. Breaks.
And I get on my knees. Gathering broken pieces. Fragments.
Trying to put the puzzle back together. But it sits.
Incomplete.
So I place what remains in a bowl. Not ready to give up on it yet. Perhaps a shard or two skittered under a cabinet.
Paying attention makes a difference.
I think about this while watering the brown, straggly plant in our front yard. The one that missed automatic sprinkler showers.
My failure to notice is part of the issue. Properly caring for plants is not my wheelhouse.
In the tropics, where I was raised? Plants grew green year round. Rain fell in abundance. And planting seeds for science projects yielded quick results. Green shoots before the week was out. Sometimes overnight.
This sad-looking specimen tells another story.
