Nemar and Karina

  2

Provision

Therefore do not be anxious, saying, 'What shall we eat?' or 'What shall we drink?' or 'What shall we wear?’  For the Gentiles seek after all these things, and your heavenly Father knows that you need them all.  But seek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things will be added to you.

Matthew 6:31-33

          Nemar looked up into a very bright sun, running a grimy hand across his sweaty brow.  The work was hard, but now that he did not bear such a heavy load he did not mind, in fact, he rather enjoyed himself.  He glanced down at the bulging satchel on his hip.  The memory of the huge pack he’d once carried momentarily flashed before his eyes and he suppressed an involuntary shudder at the thought.  But that was long ago and despite the memory, he no longer carried that load.  The Load Bearer had taken care of that.  Now Nemar put his energies to a much better use, securing his future.  Once again Nemar gazed at the satchel; this time giving it a couple of pats.

          “Well,” Nemar thought, “I’ve gathered all that I can from here.”  He looked about at the short scratchy bushes.  Beneath pale green leaves succulent purple berries clustered.  Juicy and sweet, they pulled down nodding branches with their weight.  Nemar enjoyed this find very much.  Their sweetness would add to his somewhat bland diet.  In fact, since he’d given his pack to the Load Bearer his prospects had looked up indeed.  No longer stooped under his pack, Nemar found the desert plain much less a desert than he’d originally thought.  So focused on bearing his load he never had carefully examined the world before.  Now, able to look about he found opportunity at every hand.  The vast plain fairly burst with food and other opportunities.

          Nemar shouldered the heavy laden satchel.  Lifting the flap , he glanced inside taking an inventory of the contents.  A few annoying gnats buzzed out into the bright sunshine.  He enjoyed looking over his stash.  He’d collected enough food to last for quite some time.  In one corner he saw a large collection of nuts.  He remembered finding those the day after he gave his pack to the Load Bearer.  He could still see the tree that bore them waving in the morning breeze.  He went up to the tree to rest in the shade.   Leaning back against the trunk he closed his eyes in the cool dappled shadows.  After a few moments of rest he noticed a sharp pain in his bottom.  Something hard poked him!  He groped in the grass until he found the offending object and pulled it up.  A nut, in fact the ground was covered with them.  Hidden in the grass they lay there waiting for someone to come along and gather them up.  While hard to crack and open, they provided a rich meat with a very pleasant taste.

          It was like that now.  With no extra burden to bear Nemar found this country fairly teeming with opportunity.  Instead of spending his days wearily trudging down the road breathing dust and seeing only the small patch of worn caliche in front of him Nemar spent his days in provisioning, looking to his future.  It felt good to take steps that provided for his future instead of just lugging that stupid pack.  With a small grunt Nemar shifted the satchel to more comfortable position and headed off for the road crowded with silly pack bearers.

          A few days later Nemar saw the Load Bearer.  No one who’d met him could miss that bright flashing smile and happy eyes.  He looked over at Nemar and waved.  A very joyful woman stood beside him, beaming as Nemar walked up.  “Good day, Nemar.  How are you doing?” asked the Load Bearer, “This is Karina.”

          Karina smiled holding out her hand.  She almost floated off the ground so recently liberated from the heavy pack.  Dark hair framed a lovely face with large dark expressive eyes which radiated joy and freedom.  “It is very nice to meet you Nemar.  I see you’ve met the Load Bearer.”

          “Yes I have and am very grateful to have met him.” Nemar replied.

          “What have you been up to Nemar?” asked the Load Bearer.

          “Well, I’ve found that this area is not the desert that I thought.” he replied.

          “What do you mean?”

          “Well, everywhere I look I find pliant to eat and to drink.  All those years I thought of this as some sort of dry wasteland, but it’s not.  I do not know why I did not notice before.  There land produces many different fruits and nuts.  Cool refreshing streams cut through it at regular intervals.” Nemar smiled as he related his discoveries.

          “You’re correct.” replied the Load Bearer, “Just make sure you use your knowledge wisely.”  With that the Load Bearer turned and walked away leaving Nemar and Karina gazing after him as he strode away talking to another of the endless stream of pack toters.

          “I wonder what he meant by that?” mused Nemar out loud.

          “I’m not sure,” replied Karina, “He often says things that only make sense later on.”  Her warm engaging smile made Nemar forget the task of gathering more for a few moments.  However; he quickly pushed those feelings aside and thought again of getting provision for the future.

          “Well, I must go.” he said unsure of why, “There is much to do.”

          “Okay, Nemar,” Karina said smiling, “I guess I’ll see you around.”

          “Oh, yes, I suppose,” Nemar said and watched as Karina turned and strode off down the road toward the mountain.  Something about her smile stuck with Nemar.  The last he saw of Karina was her stooping over and talking to one of the crowd.  Well, he had important things to do.  He thought he’d spied another nut tree just over the next rise.  He’d kept his mouth shut for fear that Karina might see it.  He did not want to lose an opportunity to secure his future and was quite relived when she did not move toward it.

          Some time later Nemar walked slowly down the road with a very large satchel bulging at the seams.  He did not smile and stride along as before.  Now his face bore a determined, almost haunted look.  He moved along furtively.  If another person strayed too close he glared at them and growled.   More than once he’d given them a quick shove if they did not heed the first warning.  The only time he smiled, if you could call the grimace a smile, was when one of the unfortunates that he shoved toppled over.  Then he chuckled at the cloud of dust the heavy pack raised when it hit the ground.  Once, he’d laughed out loud when one person staggered into another and both collapsed in a tangled heap.  He scuttled off quickly as they struggled to untangle limbs and packs.

A cloud of gnats buzzed around him, yet he did nothing to shoo them away.  They eagerly sought to join their brothers swarming around the berries Nemar had picked.  The juicy berries no longer looked plump and enticing.  Instead they more closely resembled a lumpy purplish gray mass.  What had been a pleasant sweet aroma was now cloying and overpowering.  The fruit rotted in the bag.  Yet, Nemar did not throw them away.  “Perhaps,” he thought, “I can make some jelly or aspic with them.”

Nemar moved among the pack bearers.  While not stooped and laboring under a heavy load he worked just as hard.  The satchel, once small and easy to bear holding a day or two of provision, now stretched out two or three yards behind him.  Nemar spent most of his time slowly dragging it down the dusty road and fending off interested load bearers.  The small crowd of gnats had grown.  Now a swarm buzzed around Nemar while flies swarmed on the greasy sticky spots on the splotched bag.  Occasionally Nemar spied a food source near the side of the road and diverted his trajectory and gathered in the field.  Hair unkempt, eyes wild Nemar waved clawed hands and made feral grunting noises at anyone who approached him for some food.

 Nemar saw the load-bearer coming toward him.  No one could miss the open engaging smile and they eyes that seemed to see deeply, deeper than one could imagine, into your soul.  Nemar stood up and warily eyed the Load-Bearer.  He dusted his hands off after shoving his most recent acquisition, some wild potatoes, into his satchel.

“Good afternoon, Nemar,” said the Load-Bearer, “How are you?”

“I’m doing fine,” he replied shortly.

“I see you’ve got quite a collection of food stuffs going,” smiled the Load-Bearer waving a hand toward the long greasy, now smelly satchel.

“Well, one must take care of one’s self.”

“Yes, I suppose that is true,” replied the Load-Bearer, “What will you do with all that food?”

“Why eat it when hard times come or the road turns through a desert again,” he replied with some asperity.

Other than a slight smile the Load-Bearer ignored the gruff reply.  “Have you noticed how much food there is along the road?”

Nemar sighed heavily and turned his head taking in the broad prospect.  He hated being diverted from his task, even by the Load-Bearer.  While the land that greeted his squinted eyes was arid, he saw a wide variety of food scattered here and there.  “Yes, I do see much food.  But will it always be there?”

The Load-Bearer smiled again at Nemar, “The great Father of the mountain always provides for you Nemar.  He always has and he always will.”

Nemar turned this thought over in his mind.  “How do I know that he will?  I remember carrying my load and how dry and thirsty I was.”

“Yes, you were, but you carried a heavy burden then, a burden never meant for your shoulders,” the Load-Bearer gazed meaningfully at the road where teeming crowds shuffled in clinging dust and heat.

Nemar looked over at the road.  He silently watched the crowds.  Men and women bent over, hobbled by their load, eyes fixed sweating in the hot sun.

“Nemar,” said the Load-Bearer quietly, “Soon your satchel of food will weigh you down like the one you gave me a short time ago.  Already it’s dragging you down, physically and mentally.   Look at it.  You could never eat all that food before it rotted.  Why even now, the food at the bottom of the satchel is not fit for consumption.”

Nemar looked at the greasy smelly end of his satchel.  Even he had to admit that the food there was quite unappetizing.  But, he just did not feel comfortable giving it up.  After all, you never knew when you might be hungry and out of reach of grub.

“You must learn to trust me and the Father.  He will provide what you need.  It may seem crazy to you, but He does care.  After all, He sent me to take your load,” then as if reading Nemar’s mind he gently added, “There are more than one type of load for men to carry.”

Nemar, looked again at his satchel.  It was getting quite large.

“Besides, how long has it been since you helped one of those,” said the Load-Bearer pointedly.

Nemar did not know what to say.  He’d never thought of how diverted he’d become.

“Nemar, as long as you spend all you time filling your satchel you have no time to help other people.  You can spend on yourself or spend on others.  The Father of the mountain will meet your needs, if you trust Him.  He just wants you to use His providing to bless others.”

Nemar strode down the road look at those around him.  He walked quickly now with a small satchel nestled against his hip.  He caught the eye of an elderly woman struggling with a bulging pack.  He walked over to her reaching into his bag, “Dear mother, could you use a refreshing ripe apple.”