I surf the blogosphere. If you are reading this, you probably do too.
The other day, I was thinking about fence lines and how they generate their own ecosystem. A bird lands on the fence, deposits seed along with its own natural fertilizer, and after awhile, the fence is choked with volunteer deciduous and coniferous trees, wild flowers and weeds.
On a whim, I googled "fence lines" and "sitting on the fence" and "fence ecosystems" and clicked on a blog that popped up.
The writing was engaging; so I read the post in its entirety.
The writers had recently moved to Scotland (from Seattle). And they were writing about how the experience had removed American blinders so that they could now see the poor and needy. Their fast-track, upwardly-mobile lifestyle in Seattle had kept them comfortably ignorant of social justice and poverty issues.
Now they saw a need and wanted to help.
They realized that they had a choice. They could stop sitting on the fence and act on their new awareness of the needy around them, or they could continue to cling to a faith that was easy and demanded very little of them.
I realized the blog was a couple of years old. So, I decided to see if there were any recent entries. I couldn't help wondering if this young couple had followed God's call and effected a change in the lives of those around them.
I discovered that the young couple returned to Seattle at some point and now have a new baby and a toddler.
As far as I could tell, there weren't any more entries about the poor and needy. Lots of pictures of the kids and life in general, but no updates on faith ponderings or good works.
I don't know if this means they became caught up in life once again and forgot about epiphanies when they returned to the United States. Maybe children came and they had other things to think about.
Or maybe they are still sitting on that fence, enjoying their own little ecosystem.
This week, find a way to get off the fence and help enhance someone else's "ecosystem". Find the needy all around you and do something for the least of these. . .