While you were waiting,
Every night I set the clouds on the horizon ablaze with pink and orange flames. And when that was over I painted the atmosphere darkest blue and allowed the stars to shine in brilliance. The moon glowed And ran its path It guarded your night. And sheep and cattle slept, confident in My keeping. While you were waiting. While you were waiting, Raindrops fell and watered the ground. Seeds buried deep below burst And their green shoots pushed into the light of day. Hyacinths and daffodils exploded In bright and glorious color. And dreams were captured from My Breath and given shape; Tried on, to determine the best fit. Recognizing their time, they were birthed into being. While you were waiting. While you were waiting, I sang over you. I strengthened your resolve And deepened your knowledge. Compassion and kindness held hands In your heart And ran out of your lips Into waiting ears. And lightened somber moods. And brought hope. While you were waiting. While you were waiting, Holy love words soothed your spirit And old ways of being slipped away. Your hand released the words “demand” and “hurry” And they ceased to be part of your language. Your very heart grew larger Your capacity to love was expanded. A new way of living in the now and the future Had been born. While you were waiting. May grace fill your waiting, Jan I tell you the truth, you will weep and mourn over what is going to happen to me, but the world will rejoice. You will grieve, but your grief will suddenly turn to wonderful joy. It will be like a woman suffering the pains of labor. When her child is born, her anguish gives way to joy because she has brought a new baby into the world. So you have sorrow now, but I will see you again; then you will rejoice, and no one can rob you of that joy. John 16:20-22 NLT When people ask how I'm doing these days, I usually respond as honestly as I can, "I have good days and I have bad days." I guess more honest would be to replace the word "days" with "minutes." I'm trying to name and acknowledge feelings and one that I've noticed a lot is grief. Today, in between Good Friday and Easter, I'm allowing myself to feel the tension of the middle. Fresh in my mind is the reading of the gospel summary of the political events that climaxed with Jesus dying on the cross. We celebrated the graphic story and remembered Jesus' life and death with a meaningful communion celebration at home and online. And I know that Resurrection Sunday is coming. But today is Saturday--the day in the middle-- and I feel the grief and tension of the disciples. The shame and the anger and the unfairness of the events of Friday. They were frantically trying to process what just happened, but they had to have been absolutely numb. Could they sleep to escape? Did they talk about it? Or were there just no words? The brutality of the Roman government was fresh in their minds--how could it not produce fear? We're in the middle too--and grief is an emotion we have in common with the disciples. We grieve loss of people and loss of physical presence. We grieve the loss of mobility, loss of income, and a school year ending without celebration. Like the disciples, we are a people waiting, perhaps in a stunned disbelief, not knowing exactly when this season will end. There is tension here in the middle. On this Saturday--more than past years-- we remember what the disciples faced that Saturday long ago. Jesus was still dead. The day drug on and on. And Jesus’ words--spoken immediately before his death? We have the luxury of seeing them in print-- the disciples had not yet remembered them. But Jesus' words were already true and they are what we hold on to-- just as surely as grief comes, so will joy. So will He. While we wait, we're in the middle, and we hold the tension of two opposing emotions existing together-- grief from loss, and expectation of joy. Our hands are open for both. We live not knowing when the season will end, but we do know that Jesus is with us, and His presence is joy! And tomorrow--we'll celebrate Jesus' Resurrection. We'll marvel again at a stone rolled away and an empty tomb. And we will know with certainty that when our own time of waiting is over, God will have answered our prayers far more abundantly than all we can fathom or even begin to ask. We'll celebrate joy. Praying for joy in the middle, Jan |
AuthorLoving words written to increase hope. Archives
May 2020
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