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By Barry Buzza
SOLOMON says: “Go to the ant, O sloth; observe
her ways and be wise.”
So I did. Here’s what I learned from a persistent
little ant last summer.
After eating a handful of potato chips, I threw a few
scraps on the sand in front of our patio to see if any of the ants were
hungry.
After a couple of minutes wait, I watched a tiny red
ant tenuously grab a one-inch chip in his jaws. He was determined, as he
hauled the huge piece several inches.
After a couple of minutes of pulling and dragging and
trying again, the chip became wedged on a small pebble. The ant worked on
it for a minute or so longer and finally shook his little head, as if to
say, “Forget it!” He walked away about four inches, and stopped
to think. Then with strong resolve, he turned back to try again.
I knew better than he that he didn’t stand a
chance, and although I was curious as to how long he would persist, I
stepped in, out of mercy, to help. I took a small stick and broke the chip
in two. He had no idea what just happened – maybe thought it was just
good luck – but he jumped at the opportunity.
The chip was still, easily, two or three times as heavy
as he was; but he locked onto it like a bulldog, and started his journey to
who-knows-where. After climbing ant-size hills up and down, and being
repeatedly flipped over by his food, he made it three more feet.
Now there was a formidable wall in his way. The
sidewalk before him was many, many times his length. He tried to climb up
to it with the chip in his mouth, and fell. Then he attempted another route
– but realized he had no choice but to scale the wall.
Seven times, he’d almost get to the top –
and then tumble to the bottom. I was cheering him on; maybe that’s
why he persisted, to try the eighth time. And he made it!
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Across the vast sidewalk, he happily pranced –
until the chip fell from his grip. I picked it up and placed it directly in
front of him. I wasn’t sure if my
scent would deter him.
Soon, another red ant moved in on the meal. There was a
short skirmish, which the first ant won. Off he proudly marched, conquest
in his mouth. Finally I lost track of him, in a maze of undergrowth.
The little ant taught me six lessons:
He knew what he wanted.
He knew where he was going.
He often set his work aside to plan ahead.
He was willing to fight for his reward.
He pursued his dream, even though it was bigger than he
was.
He never gave up.
Barry Buzza is lead pastor at Northside Church in the
Tri-Cities area, and president of the Foursquare Gospel Church of Canada.
September 2008
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