There Was This Cactus, You See....

One of the field courses I taught during my last two years as a college professor was entitled “Biology of the Baja.” It was a desert ecology class, focusing on central Baja California del Norte (the northern half of Baja California). My students were continually amazed at the many adaptations plants can possess that enable them to live in a very arid environment. And, of course, there were the cacti. The most numerous were the many species of the genus Opuntia, the jointed cacti known as prickly pears and chollas (choyas). What all members of the genus have, in addition to the jointed stems and branches, is the arrangement of heavily barbed spines on disk-like structures.

The disks bear large central spines and a number of variably smaller spines in a circle at the edges of the disks. Covering much of the disc are short, fine fuzz-like glocchidia. If these get into your skin, they are worse than any glass wool fibers I’ve ever found. The presence of the barbed spines along with the fact that the joints quite easily break off of the plants make walking through a patch of such cactuses a bothersome event.

Some Opuntia have only a few, widely dispersed spine clusters. Others, like the “Teddy Bear” cholla common in southern California, Arizona and on into Mexico, have densely packed spine clusters and actually look furry from a distance.

But the species to watch out for is Opuntia molesta. It doesn’t have a common name to my knowledge, but its Latin name is very fitting. The clusters of spines are moderately close together; but worse, the central spine is between 2 ½ and 3 inches long, hard as steel, and as sharp as any needle around. Everyone in my classes had their turn experiencing this cactus up close.

A little over three years ago my son and I drove down to Arizona to visit my folks. One day while there, we were driving around and stopped at a garden center that specialized in native desert plants. I was looking for a small thick-leaved yucca to bring back home to plant in our flower bed. I happened to glance over the large lot, and exclaimed to the owner, who was with us, “You’ve got some molesta!” Sure enough, I’d recognized about six O. molesta plants on the other side of the lot.

The owner explained he’d harvested them (with special permits) from a big lot that was being developed down near Yuma, AZ. He mentioned how much pain (literally) he’d gone through to save the plants. The central spines easily pass through leather gloves. In fact, one spine had once gone through a fourth-inch of rubber on a running shoe and about as far into the end of the big toe of one of my students. Because the spines are barbed, we had to use pliers to extract it. The gardener could not have been exaggerating his pain.

More recently, I’ve come to realize how much we humans are like those Opuntia molesta plants. Christ approaches, and our natural sinful tendency is to lash out, all prickles. And yet, He wanted so much to save us, He decided we were worth the pain, even when we drove our spines through His hands and feet and into the cross. The neat thing is that He has promised to change our hearts and natures if we turn them over to Him. It is possible in this life to become like the almost-spine-free prickly pears seen in many gardens. Yes, we may continue with a few spines here and there while here on this earth. But the day will come, Paul tells us, when we’ll be changed in the twinkling of an eye to become just like Jesus in nature (1 Corinthians 15:51, 52). I really look forward to that day.

I’ve often wondered what a spine-free cholla would look like.

Dr. G

Octopus Ahoy!

The section of beach on Puget Sound that my brother and I frequented when growing up experiences about a twelve foot difference between extreme high tide and extreme low tide. We’d always hit the lowest tides, constantly probing in the sand and mud, turning over rocks, looking everywhere for marine invertebrates. We spent considerable time at this during our high-school years, to the extent that by the time we headed off to college (both to become biologists), we had almost as complete a collection of intertidal species as did the marine station of the college we attended. Needless to say, we had a tremendous advantage when we took the course in marine invertebrates.

One summer, probably between my sophomore and junior years in high school, the two of us were at the beach at low tide, as usual. My brother had been diving in water about 20 feet deep, contributing things to our collection that were normally out of our reach. It being warm that day (summer water temperature in Puget Sound is typically in the mid- to upper 50’s), I was paddling around in an inner tube. I was in water about four feet deep over a submerged sand bar, when I looked down and saw a humongous octopus. I immediately called my brother who swam over quickly while I stayed above the slowly moving octopus. Together we jumped on it, caught it, and dragged it to shore.

Some folks in one of the nearby houses had a Polaroid camera (new to the market at the time) and took a picture of us holding the octopus up between us (my brother may still have that photo). The “head” was about even with our faces; the tips of the tentacles barely cleared the ground. We had no way of measuring it accurately, but it was between nine and ten feet from tip to tip, possibly more. Large octopuses actually do exist, especially in the northern Pacific. The record span for this species is about 25 feet with a weight of 400 pounds (larger ones have been reported but not verified). With such a reach, the eight sucker-clad tentacles could really make life interesting for something trying to escape it. Sort of reminds me of the carnival game where you stand in front of a table with a dozen holes, out which a head will momentarily pop up, and you’re supposed to hit it with the padded mallet in your hand.

I picture Satan, in his attacks on us, as a sort of octopus. More slithering tentacles than a human can watch at any one time. That is why we need to trust in the Lord. There is no way you or I can deal with so many attacks. And the idea of suckers on his tentacles is pretty fitting, too. When one of Satan’s tentacles gets hold of one of us, we really need help in getting rid of it.

I am so glad the Lord is there when we need him. Playing with a live octopus may not be harmful (did I mention they can, and often will bite?). Playing with Satan, thinking we are too quick for him, or powerful enough on our own so that we won’t get entrapped is foolish. Diving into the water with him is not something we should ever do. We need to stay on the shore with the Lord.

My brother and I didn’t take this treasure home. It probably wouldn’t have stayed in that galvanized tub of Mom’s.

Dr. G

Being Well-Grounded is My Plan

In 2 Thessalonians, Paul talks about the second coming and how the dead in Christ will rise first and then we who remain will be caught up into the air to join them and Jesus to reign with Him forever. I am really looking forward to that day. But I would warn any of you not to stand too close to me on that day. I may choke you. Let me explain.

My mother loves Ferris wheels. Down through the years she has told the family of the time she took me on my first ride on one. We lived in Austin, Texas, at the time; I was about three years old. From the moment the chair began to move until we got off, I clung to her neck for dear life. Nearly choked her, I did. I didn’t like my feet being off the ground.

About two years later we were living in Belgrade, Montana. Our neighbors had several blue spruces in which some Brewer’s Blackbirds had built nests. One nest was at about the height of my mother’s head. She thought she would share the sight with her boys by lifting them up to peer into the nest, one at a time. My older brother got his chance. Then it was my turn. She lifted me up, and I nearly choked her again. I couldn’t feel anything under my feet. Personally, I think that if our Creator had intended us to be peering into birds’ nests, He would have had them all build their nests on the ground.

Shortly before this my mother, a WWII widow remarried. That is another story to be shared at some later time. My adopted-father-to-be happened to have his private pilot’s license. For my fourth birthday, about a month before they married, he took me, my mother and older brother for a flight around the greater Bozeman, Montana area. I don’t recall being upset by flying. It is possible I was so intrigued by all the gadgets in the plane that I didn’t notice what wasn’t outside the plane.

As I’ve grown older, my dislike for heights has abated a little. I enjoy flying. I can stand at the edge of observations decks on tall buildings, and even at the guardrails of tall bridges. But if I’m at the edge of a cliff, or on a ladder, I still get weak knees. I don’t like climbing on rocks; what goes up must come down. I don’t do roller coasters. I’ve had to go up on roofs several times; never a happy event. I’m always afraid that if I start to slip, in my panic I’ll automatically go into the drill we teach the children to do if their clothes catch on fire: drop and roll. Not a good idea when on the roof. So on that great day, be a little wary if you’re close to me. I may grab for something when my feet leave the ground.

On the other hand, the scriptures do say “Perfect loves casts out fear.” It would be nice if that would take place before that day, and not after it starts. Maybe what I need to do is keep my eyes on Jesus when it happens, and perhaps, like that day in the little Piper airplane, I won’t notice what isn't around me. That won’t be too bad.

I just need to be the opposite of Lot’s wife: keep my eye on where I’m headed, and forget about where I’ve been.

Have a great day.

Dr. G

Choosing a Place to Eat

Fast-food restaurants seem to thrive on poor college kids and vice-versa. As you approach a campus the number of such eateries seems to increase exponentially. At least that’s the case in most areas.

I attended college in a small town in south-eastern Washington State. The county is not what you’d call heavily populated (less than 60,000 in 2004); in fact that works out to about 43 persons per square mile. When I first attended, the nearest shopping mall was four hours away in Portland Oregon. The city of Walla Walla, right next to the town in which my college was located, had about three drive-ins back in the early 60’s, with the A&W the only franchised one. To my knowledge, there were no others in the whole county.

When I returned in 1991 as Registrar at my alma mater, the city could now boast one Pizza Hut, Two McDonalds, one Burger King and a few locally-based fast-food drive-ins. There was no Taco Bell, no Wendy’s, no Arby’s, and no choice. And again, as far as I knew, that was it for the whole county.

I soon discovered that there was a small coterie of Taco Bell fanatics from a certain college department which dealt with living organisms that, on Saturday nights, would load up in a couple of cars and make a “Taco Bell run,” as they called it.

The nearest Taco Bell was an hour away in the town of Pasco, WA. You’ve got to be pretty desperate to drive two hours to get a couple of burritos. I discovered that this behavior had been going on for several years, and it continued for my first three years in town. I joined, mostly as an observer, only one time. Then, could you believe it! A Taco Bell opened up in town.

For more than the first week of operation, the line to get through the drive-thru wrapped all the way around a city block. The parking lot wasn’t exactly small, but you normally didn’t think of parking your car unless you were there at an odd hour. Talk about fast-food junkies! The franchise paid for itself in a matter of months.

My issue is not directly with the quality of food at such places. That is for someone else’s blog right now. But I wonder why in society in general there is such a disparity between the rush for fast food, and the seeming lack of interest in spiritual food. Is it possible that the same ignorance that blinds people to the effects of fast food on the body blinds the mind to need for the spiritual? Fast food is cheap, that’s true. But the life-giving spiritual food is free. It lasts for an eternity. And no Taco Bell runs are necessary. You can get it without even leaving home! It’s hard to beat a deal like that.

And take it easy on the hot sauce, OK?

Dr. G

Unexpected Answers

In a few weeks, all the students in Georgia will be taking their “end of year” tests. I put that in quote marks, since the tests are taken about two months before school is out. But that is the way it is. It gives the officials time to score the tests and schools an opportunity to remediate for a retest before school is out. Anyway, teachers have been working very hard all year, but especially hard the past few weeks getting kids ready for the tests. While all grade levels take the CRCT’s (as they’re called), they are most important for students in grades 3, 5 and 8. Minimal scores must be achieved by the student in order to be promoted.

A little over a week ago I was talking with one of our third-grade teachers. She was telling me of a math quiz she’d given her students. A section on the quiz included a graph summarizing a survey taken among some students as to the most popular color of tennis shoe. The first question asked how many students participated in the survey. One would assume the students would simply tally up the total number of votes to achieve the correct answer. And most did. My colleague shook her head, however, as she related the responses of two students. One wrote “Black”, the other wrote “Purple.” One has to wonder what question they had read. It was obvious which one they hadn’t read.

Unexpected answers. Life can be full of them. Occasionally, when working with adults, if someone says, “I have a question” and follows up with a long pause, I’ll suddenly blurt out something like, “849!” or “457!” That usually helps kick-start the other brain into gear and we can get on with the conversation. With my little kids, I’ll often name a farm animal.

Have you noticed in your religious experience that the Lord often comes up with unexpected answers? Noticeably, however, His are always meaningful; they’re also always the right ones. They are just different than we expected.

“Lord, it is getting late. Shouldn’t we be sending these folks home?”
“No, give them something to eat.”

“Lord, we pay temple taxes, don’t we?”
“Peter, go catch a fish.”

‘Lord, if you had been here, Lazarus wouldn’t have died.”
“Roll away the stone!”

“Jesus of Nazareth, by what authority do you teach these things?”

"I’ll tell you a parable.”

“Lord, Hezekiah here. The enemy is approaching Jerusalem. What shall we do?”
“Send out the choir and stand still.”

“Lord we’re boxed in between the Egyptians and the water. Have you brought us out here to die?”
“Step into the water.”

How has it been in your life? Have you had any unexpected answers? I sure have. Mostly because I’d already planned out how I wanted the Lord to respond to my requests. The problem is that His vision is so much better than mine. I’m so blind, I rarely see the start of my problems, and certainly can’t see to the end. How silly of me to think that I know what is best. How much better to rely on Him who not only can see everything from the beginning to the end, but also loves me enough to always put my feet on the right path. What a God we serve!

Personally, I would have voted for the black-cherry cowboy boots.

Dr. G