Those who wait for the Lord shall renew their strength, they shall mount up with wings like eagles, they shall run and not be weary, they shall walk and not faint.
One of the gifts of this pandemic is the opportunity it has afforded of going outside into the spring, the summer, and the fall at a different pace, and with a different purpose. The rush and scurry of prior times is on the back burner, the longing for understanding, for meaning, and for resolution is very much on the front burner. And so, like many others searching for ways to deal with the angst, the boredom, or the empty hours, I walked for miles, often with a friend at a few arms’ length.
What did we hear? What did we see?
“Do you not know? Have you not heard? The Lord is the everlasting God…” I could hear and distinguish the songs of birds I had never noticed. I could see the deepest blush of color through sunlit leaves that stopped me in my tracks, and flowers on kudzu that I had never known existed. I could almost, ALMOST, hear each of them shouting to me like the Whos in Horton Hears A Who: “We are here, we are here.” Like a cool breeze after hours in the hot sun, I felt the tingling of reassurance that God is working His purpose out. Yes, it is something that I cannot fathom. Yes, I am tired and weary, and I stumble and fall. The relentless bad news and strife batters and tears at me.
And then the angel wing begonia bloomed in its pot for the very first time in well over a decade. The tingling returned and I knew it was hope. Hope in the Lord. I knew that strength would be renewed. I could imagine the grace of the eagle’s soaring flight and feel myself lifted. I could run yet another day, I could walk and go another mile.
Thanks be to God for hope in the Lord, and the glimmers of it that come each day.