Spring will Ultimately Come

Thinking differently about world events

Goodbye, summer

I slid the curtains open this good morning and noticed that fog had settled into the cedars, turning the woods into vague and shadowy silhouettes. The miniature sunflowers along the fence line to the woodland popped bright heads of yellow, their tired black faces nodding goodbye to summer. I, however, wasn’t ready for those valedictions, and still stepped outside to sit and drink tea and read my Bible and to marinate upon whatever the Lord sought fit to convey.

Currently, I am studying through the book of Acts via Tabletalk Magazine. Certainly, no one needs a separate devotional or study guide outside of the Bible itself, but I found my self-study becoming rather rote, if you will. Front to back, then front again we go. Nothing wrong with that whatsoever, but I desired a longer lingering and perhaps a small amount of hand holding at present. Like someone who comes to a blank journal page with a mind overcome with a jumble of words but no trace or trickle from the pen, a little prompting at the right time can jimmy free the most stuck. So I trust Jesus to teach me what I most need to observe, through the readings this little magazine offers.

As I settled upon the hard metal chair, I read from Isaiah 40:28-31, that precious promise so many believers receive and recognize:

Hast thou not known? hast thou not heard, that the everlasting God, the LORD, the Creator of the ends of the earth, fainteth not, neither is weary? there is no searching of his understanding. He giveth power to the faint; and to them that have no might he increaseth strength. Even the youths shall faint and be weary, and the young men shall utterly fall: But they that wait upon the LORD shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings as eagles; they shall run, and not be weary; and they shall walk, and not faint.

I tried not to rush through this familiar passage, and took a long sip from my green tea. Rushing is so modern, so ruinous at times. I reread, slowly. The citrus and mint infused into my green tea rose from my mug and wafted into my senses. I could hear the juncos, their sweet trills overlapping the more instant, and the slightly wearisome, red crossbill’s assertive jip-jip-jip-jip. The blessing, it seemed as I mulled over the scripture, comes from a position of faintness and lack of might, and trusting within the Lord’s sovereignty and timing and promises. Applying to my current life, it was difficult not to consider the upcoming election, as the whole world seems to be on a teeter and surely my strength to overcome any part of its spectacle and to resolve to stay at rest is certainly at odds.

But there with my Bible tucked into my lap, before my eyes, the sunflowers bobbed, and the fog wrapped around substantial trucks of maples and evergreens, and small birds flitted about and found ripened berries and seeds. There was warmth in my hands and depth in my tea and the profundity of God’s word for my spirit. Ah, for eyes to see; to even, I might add, with a desire to seek.

2 Corinthians 6:17  …be ye separate, saith the Lord…

As Christians, we must think differently of world events because the reality of what is going on IS different from what we are presented with. If we are blessed with a leader of our own choosing, or if we are distressed with a leader that our neighbors choose, know this: it is God who changes the times and the seasons, and it is God who takes down kings and sets up presidents (Daniel 2:21). It isn’t that we don’t care; but our actual influence in these events isn’t as flashy as changing an election outcome with our one vote even if we understand the civic responsibility to do so. It’s far more reaching, and productive, to understand and recognize the vast spiritual battle that is transpiring, and to spend time in prayer recognizing that our own sins cause just as much damage as the world and the devil, and our battle is not for a better country (however you define it) but for the truth. And, also importantly, lest we forget, our outside enemies in the world are actually the mission field.

I finished my time outside with a passage from Spurgeon’s Morning and Evening as the sun, orange from nearby wildfires, began to pierce the haze. An osprey flew overhead. I wondered if it would dive for my kitty as much as it would for a fish in the Puget Sound.

Psalms 46:10   Be still, and know that I am God: I will be exalted among the heathen, I will be exalted in the earth.

I learned that “be still” in this case is not necessarily a call for repose, but for surrender. This isn’t a surrender to lay down the battle armor of Ephesians 6, but a surrender to God’s sovereignty and to His ultimate goodness and righteous justice and judgement.

I gathered up my cup and my books and my blanket and headed back inside. Autumn is coming. Perhaps it is already here. I am comforted with the knowledge that my Father not only directs the seasons, but as RC Spoul once stated, every molecule in the universe. God renewed me today and I expect He will through this autumn, and carry me through winter, as He has promised. And spring, blessed and resurrected spring, will ultimately come.