Changing Seasons
Give praise to the Lord, proclaim his name; make known among the nations what he has done.
Sing to him, sing praise to him; tell of all his wonderful acts.
Glory in his holy name; let the hearts of those who seek the Lord rejoice.
Look to the Lord and his strength; seek his face always. 1 Chronicles 16:8-11
Insight
My yard is a blanket of red and gold leaves. So much so, I can barely see any grass at all. I’m constantly amazed by the specific orientation of our house within our neighborhood and the way that everyone else’s trees somehow drop their leaves into our small patch of earth. We only own one tree, and yet, due to some perfect wind leaf blowing pattern, we seem to accumulate more leaves than our neighbors. And so we rake. And we rake, and we rake, and we rake. And the leaves remind us that nothing stays the same for too long.
Mainstream media has given our current mental state a new label: pandemic fatigue. Characterized as exhaustion from fear for safety and from the upheaval of normalcy. Essentially, we’re ready to move on, hoping for this long, strange, difficult season to end.
This kind of label makes me think of the Israelites after crossing the Red Sea. They had just seen God work in this extraordinary way, delivering them from the Egyptian army and certain death. A miraculous, awe-inspiring experience. Then they find themselves in the wilderness. Surely they didn’t go into exile thinking it would last as long as it did. I have to imagine one month, two months, three months go by. Food is getting short, and nerves are frayed. One year turns to two, and perhaps things begin to seem more normal within their current situation. And they grumbled, and they begged God for the Promised Land. Exodus 16:2 says, “In the desert, the whole community grumbled against Moses and Aaron saying to them, ‘If only we had died by the Lord’s hand in Egypt! You have brought us out into the desert to starve.’”
It would be so much easier to simply go back to the way things were.
In Job 13:15, sitting in intense pain and suffering, Job says, “Yet will I trust you.” Though sorrow and grief nearly undid him, Job remained. He wasn’t happy about it, but he stayed. Likewise, the Israelites were not happy about God’s timing, but they too were present, and God was with them.
Sometimes God’s timing isn’t our timing. Sometimes the current spot we find ourselves in is exhausting and painful and doesn’t make sense. But when we sit and wait for change to come, we’re gifted with His abiding presence. In that presence, we get to drink deeply from the well of God’s love for us. We’re gifted with time to be in His company. To grow closer to Him and to experience Him in new ways. If all Israel ever saw of God was His big miracle moments, they would have missed the power of an intimate relationship with Him. If God had delivered them immediately to the Promised Land, they wouldn’t have learned to trust and rely on Him.
Just like we know for sure that spring will come again next year, God too will not leave us where we are. This pandemic will not be our forever. Change comes. And with it, beauty and newness and the opportunity to emerge with a new perspective. This too shall pass.
Yet will I trust you.
And while we wait, we grow. And while we grow, we change. Our lives become the changing season that blooms again.
Reflection
What areas of your current day-to-day life are you being impatient in your waiting for God to move?
How can you surrender your expectations of what should happen next in life and lay those at the feet of Christ?
What do you need to bring to God in prayer?
Prayer
Father, You are our hope. You give us everything that we need every day. We trust in You. Please give us the courage to wait and remain in Your presence even when the path doesn’t look right, even when the road is long. Be with us, Father. We ask for the peace of Your presence that we may rest secure in being close to You. Amen.
Port City writer Kaitlyn Boscaljon wrote today’s devotional.