Hope Like a Bird in a Rainstorm
I wait for the Lord, my whole being waits,
and in his word I put my hope.
I wait for the Lord
more than watchmen wait for the morning,
more than watchmen wait for the morning.
Israel, put your hope in the Lord,
for with the Lord is unfailing love
and with him is full redemption.
He himself will redeem Israel
from all their sins. — Psalm 130:5-8 (NIV)
My mother has a green thumb, passed down through generations, but somehow it was not passed down to me. Still, I try.
Because I like colorful flowers in the spring, they say I should plant bulbs in the fall. With my decidedly not green thumb, planting bulbs in the fall has become a spiritual practice of hoping.
My method: Push my trowel into the dirt to create a small crevice. Sprinkle a little bulb fertilizer and fresh compost in the hole and mix it with my gloved hand. Then place a bulb at the bottom. Is it pointy-end up or down? I can never remember. Cover the bulb and don’t forget to water. Then hope for an awakening in the spring.
But I’m never quite sure. Did I do it right? Will these flowers flower?
Near the end of winter, I long for anything with color to lift my soul. I wait and watch for the first bright green shoots to appear. Then it’s all anticipation. Will it be yellow and white daffodils, pink tulips, or purple hyacinths? Waiting dresses itself in the robes of hoping.
I have done what I knew to do. There was no expertise, only sincerity in the planting and watering. But hope is not based on my efforts. Hope is based on God’s limitless abilities. And while I wait with hope, God is at work beneath the surface, creating, growing, and producing a vibrant future for me.
Hope is not wasted effort. Hope is confidence that God is at work making all things better. Better, as defined by him in His goodness, wisdom, and perfect timing.
"'Hope' is the thing with feathers." So says Emily Dickinson. Emily’s bird is a faithful little thing. Despite the storms of life, it "never stops at all."
I like Emily’s bird. To Emily, hope is fragile like a bird yet tenacious, a bird heard singing in a gale. Hope, like a bird in a rainstorm, shakes off fear and doubt and says, this that I have right now can be better. Indeed, hope in Jesus will always lead to better. Jesus promises us a future better than we can imagine. A future with Him, face to face.
"'For I know the plans I have for you,' declares the Lord, 'plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future,'" Jeremiah 29:11 (NIV). God gave that promise to the Israelites while they were in captivity. He promised that after 70 years, he would return the Israelites to their home. In essence, he said, Israel, wait and watch, better is coming!
It was a snowy day in January, the first time I saw one of my bulbs flower. One verdant green stem poked through the sparkling snow and bloomed egg-yolk yellow petals to form a perfect daffodil. A tiny lighthouse beaming across a carpet of white.
While every living thing in the yard was still hidden and hibernating, new life emerged.
When life’s storms come, threatening to capsize us, resist the urge to despair. Stay and watch. God is at work, beneath the surface, creating something new. Something better.
Wait and watch for it.
Questions for Reflection:
1. What are you waiting for? Are you waiting with hope?
2. How does remembering that God is always at work change the way you wait?
