The sun pours out of a clear blue sky and once again, over-enthusiasm
got the better of Don and me. Don planted out the beautiful salmon-pink
impatiens we bought a couple of weeks ago, only to find them shrivelled and
dead in the morning. An overnight frost took them away, like it did some of the
marigolds I hopefully planted a few weeks ago.
We are over-eager to enter into the freedom of summertime
joys. To see the colour return. To smell the fragrances of plenty. To watch the
busy bees, the frolicking butterflies, and the hungry birds. To bask in the
warm sunshine.
Now our hopes are dashed. Well, our hopes for profusions of
yellows and pinks.
I am so ready for this pandemic to disappear. I thought I
was bobbing along fine, but last night I couldn’t sleep. It’s like a
bereavement, this being denied contact with family and friends. A deep grief,
knowing these days bring changes which don’t reverse, especially in children.
We can’t recapture those moments of first steps, of first words, of hilarious
giggles and warm hugs, of crawling around the floor pushing trains or cars or
building lego, of discovering a world of wonder and beauty with inquisitive grandkids.
There will be more moments in the future, I know, but these moments, at these
stages of development, will be gone.
But we can’t make the same mistake we made with our
marigolds and our impatiens. We don’t want to invite disaster by re-engaging
too soon. We have to reign in our impulses.
I found comfort in 2 Corinthians 4:16-18. ‘Therefore we do
not lose heart. Though outwardly we are wasting away, inwardly we are being renewed
day by day. For our light and momentary troubles (!!) are achieving for us an
eternal glory that far outweighs them all. So we fix our eyes not on what is
seen, but on what is unseen. For what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen
is eternal.’
If you’re flagging like I am, I pray for you, too, that
today God will help us fix our eyes on Jesus, so that ‘the things of earth will
grow strangely dim in the light of his glory and grace’.
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