Waiting

 

A dark morning. Rain lashed and wind shrieked through the night, and dawn has come, grey and white and cold and dark. The trees stand stark against the sky, bare bones. The earth lies dark and empty.

All creation waits.

I know that beneath the apparently empty ground, bulbs already begin to sprout, stretching fragile stems towards the weak light. I know that in time, the stems will break through the hard crust, will bud and blossom into colours and fragrances to delight and impress.

Faith is the assurance of things hoped for.

All creation waits. The pandemic continues; the normal festive gatherings are on hold; reunions are postponed. Hearts are sad and longing. Longing for this season of waiting to pass.

As it will. This, too, shall pass, as my dear Mom says to me every day when I speak with her. We’ll meet again. There will be joy, and because I am sure of that joy to come, I can have a quiet joy in my heart now.

Waiting is hard. But knowing we have a God who is love, we know that the testing times will pass, that winter will open out into spring and there will be abundance of laughter and love and hugs and relief. Faith is the assurance of things hoped for. May God help us all to hold on in faith today, knowing that he never leaves nor forsakes us. May he come to each of us today in our hearts, reassuring us of the truth.