Dripping Hope

The silent roar of winter is broken not with a blow, but bit by dripping bit, with the radiant sun creeping closer...closer...warmer. 
The sky unzips with wings, floating, calling the sun from its shadows.

The earth releases its iron grip on the white blanket that fails to warm, and I dream of the fragrant peony and the tall and wild hollyhock, and wonder if the berry bushes boxed up in the club store will grow well in my yard, if it would be worth the space on my little postage stamp of the City on the River in the North.

Eyes strain to see the firsts: first tulip sprouts, first robin, first groundhog.
Check. Check, and check. Five robins this weekend.
The sparrows and starlings have been back, and I heard a jay last week, although it defied my eyes.

Soon my eyes will see the trees slowly open their fingers to reveal the hat trick they do every year. It always delights, and every year I think, "I should take a picture of this road every day from first bud to full leaf." Maybe this year I will. Does everyone know the color of the first leaf? It is not the color of summer--it is the color of new.
Very nearly transparent, tender to the touch...
fragile.
Hopeful.

Yes, in hope and the most ancient of wisdom the trees make leaf every year without fail.
Is my hope that wise? That confident? That brash?
To live out loud even though the sky is gray, the earth sepia, and white blankets threaten to suffocate again?
To know and not care that the leaf will once again turn russet, wither, and die?

Yet we must, or we shall die. One year's crop is meant to take us through the suffocating winter. One summer's fruit--oh, how sweet!--made for us to yearn for, work for, protect, and savor.

How is it that we can hope over and over again? When last year's crop rots, our flesh pales, and all is sepia--what do we long for but life and warmth and color?
When it is too long in the coming, do we give up hope? Do we stay under our blanket of loneliness, remembering only the weight of cares? Even then, do we not wish for hope, however out of reach it seems?

If you are stuck in bed, unable to move, listen as Jesus says to you, "Take heart, child, your sins are forgiven!" (Matthew 9:2)
Look him in the eyes, let hope ring in your ears.
Reach out your tired hand for his.
Believe that he gives you the strength that comes from remembering your sins no more
NO
MORE

He stretched his hands as far as they could go
LET the nails dig in deep, crushing bone on their way through
His feet lifted up from the ground
The suffocating pull of limbs tied to a tree
He felt everything, refusing the offer of relief (Mark 15:23)

He who was perfect
became the perfect lamb
so I could know the perfect lover
and live
after dying
because he is alive.

Three Marys at the Tomb, by Bouguereau

 And adding hope to hope
He is coming back for me.

The New Reality

She says it here. This lady named Ann who found her voice in giving thanks for 1,000 gifts.

radical has to be the Christian’s new normal, that radical isn’t radical but the regular to the disciple of Christ

 And I keep reading about her trip to Haiti, the boys, the Bibles, the thirsty land. I've heard of this thirsty land before. One of our pastors took his family there to live for a while, to bring living water to this dry and thirsty land, a land of thanks-givers who have nothing compared to us, and yet everything.

And her words cut me right through. No, the Holy Spirit cuts through the deception, the self-serving, the thick skin that I put on to keep from hurting. And I see myself a little more clearly, and I don't like what I see. I could turn away, forgetting what I look like. But I keep reading.

...and who is ready to have less so we all have something, or do we all want everything so most get nothing?
We’ve got all of God. Why not share the rest?
Or maybe we don’t — because we don’t really have Him at all?

And I know how I hold back from giving of myself. I hear myself saying, "I want to be there. I want to get for a while."

I am so tired of plowing and sowing, plowing and sowing, plowing and sowing...and just when it looks like there might be a harvest, another pastor leaves from shame or sheer exhaustion. We have seen seven come, six go, and finally we left. Tired, hungry, wounded...and I no longer blame any of those who have gone before, over the 27+ years, while we stayed, plowing and sowing, plowing and sowing. When comes the rejoicing? When comes the carrying the sheaves?

And I just want to sit a while. I am thirsty now, and want to soak it up from others for a while. I want to be there.

And we were asked to be here again. To have meetings once a week. No, I say. I want. I want to be there. Once or twice a month will still give me time to be there without here being too inconvenient.

And there is thirst.

And I read on...
I read about the boy begging for food or drink and receiving the Bread of Life and his huge grin.
And I know what it is about, and what it is about is not me.

In tears, I cry "uncle!" Tell him we will do it here, in our home. Yes. Every week, if that is what is wanted, needed. I give.

I have been thirsty. And in my thirst, I've kept the water for myself, and the fountain has stopped.

John 4:13-14

13 Jesus answered, "Everyone who drinks this water will be thirsty again, 14 but whoever drinks the water I give him will never thirst. Indeed, the water I give him will become in him a spring of water welling up to eternal life."

When I give again, it is promised that my water will turn into a well for those around me in need.

I give.


 

His answer is love.

Ann Voskamp, author of 1000 Gifts: A Dare to Live Fully Right Where You Are, is a farmer’s wife. She and her neighbors are living through a drought that is threatening their entire year’s work and income.

Standing in their yard overlooking their corn fields, watching clouds drop rain to the north, to the west, and to the south, she is shaken inside by worry. Her husband turns to her and says, “When you know your Father’s loving – what can you fear losing? He hears us. He loves us. He has us. So whatever happens, He’s good and we’re good.”

Ann writes, “We pray to the Lord knowing His answer is Love.”

 Please click there and read her words, soft and full and pure.

How many times did we as children say to a parent, “If you love me, you will do ___ for me.” (Let me go to the movies with my friends…give me that special thing for my birthday/Christmas…) 

How many times as adults do we think to ourselves, “If ___ really loves me, he/she would ___.”

How many times as children of God have we used these very words to Him?

Oh, we don’t actually say them, but we think them when we pray, asking for things.

“Lord, please, don’t let me lose my job,” when the pink slips are passed around.

“Oh, God, keep my car running until I can afford another.”

“Please, heal Aunt Dorothy of cancer.”

The words, “If You love me,” are not in the question, but they are in the expecting. They are in the air of the heart when the answer is not what we wanted.

I must not be good enough. I must not have enough faith. I must not be loved by God enough to get what I want – what I believe I need.

His answer is love. It always was. It always will be.

What can we fear losing if all our hearts are tied up in Him? He is the one thing we can never lose, as long as He is the one thing we desire.

Jer 29:13  And you shall seek Me and find Me, when you search for Me with all your heart.

Heb 13:5-6  Keep your lives free from the love of money, and be satisfied with what you have. For God has said, "I will never leave you; I will never abandon you." Let us be bold, then, and say, "The Lord is my helper, I will not be afraid. What can anyone do to me?"

Oh, how our hearts can go a-wandering after other loves!

Mat 6:31-33  Therefore do not be anxious, saying, What shall we eat? or, What shall we drink? or, With what shall we be clothed? For the nations seek after all these things. For your heavenly Father knows that you have need of all these things. But seek first the kingdom of God and His righteousness; and all these things shall be added to you.

 

Our primary goal … shouldn’t it be to become, not to obtain?

Eph 4:13  This will continue until we are united by our faith and by our understanding of the Son of God. Then we will be mature, just as Christ is, and we will be completely like him.

So, let us become like Him who received the full cup, not turning away, even though it was not what He wanted.

Luk 22:42  saying, Father, if You are willing, remove this cup from Me. Yet not My will, but Yours be done.