The bay by Fish Creek is melting, the ice breaking into white geometric chunks outlined in blue. A lone goose ambles next to shore, smacking her webbed feet on the still frozen. I giggle on the inside. She’s looking, beak moving left and right, waiting. Memory of last spring’s fuzzy goslings makes me smile.
Does she remember? Is this why she’s searching for a nesting place? Does she hold hope for new life?
Not far from the goose, we spot a pair of sandhill cranes, long legs high-stepping through still yellowed grasses, also searching. They begin to warble back-and-forth loudly.
Are they celebrating their new nesting place?
Or are they tentative, wondering, even worrying about the two loons peering at them above the grasses, one snapping photographs like crazy?
What will become of them and their brood?
Will they survive? Will they thrive? Will any of them die?
Bird’s brains may not think of such stuff.
But humans do.
Who knows what will become of us?
Only God knows.
We know He cares for the sparrows (Matthew 10:29) and the goose and the sandhill crane.
And if he cares for the birds, how much more will he care for you, for me, for all of us created in his image?
We are waiting for fulfillment of his promises.
We wait, still wondering.
The sick still die.
Horrible things happen to “good” people.
We wonder . . .
Will God come through for us?
Will God REALLY deliver us?
What we believe in our heads can shake horribly when our hearts are moved into places we’ve never known before. Fear so strong can crack us wide open. Grief so deep can show us a bottomless abyss, waiting to swallow us whole like a snake.
We wait for Jesus in an age that seems hopeless.
But we never need be hopeless.
Our God is WITH us.
He is waiting until his appointed time to make all things new, to make all things right.
And I still do believe, after having suffered much through my entire life.
I still believe that our God still cares.
I still believe our God sees.
I still believe our God wastes nothing and uses everything for good.
Nothing wasted. Everything used.
Even torture and murder and threat of annihilation.
For some, annihilation means a race, a culture.
For others, annihilation is intensely personal.
Me, for example . . .
I’ve been struggling—again—with anxiety and depression.
Those who have never walked this road cannot possibly understand.
But I want those who DO understand to know this . . .
YOU ARE NEVER ALONE!
Our God is WITH you.
And so am I.
And so are all those who still fear to stand up and admit openly to the world their struggles which are not SPIRITUAL or MORAL of CHARACTER inadequacies but, rather, neurochemical inadequacies, just like diabetes.
And many depressions and anxieties are the result of people who lack compassion—who hurt and therefore hurt—who spew onto others their own inner pain, though they know it not—and the sensitive—the vulnerable—the fragile—we take it all—though we should not.
And then there is the physical. The body, so wonderfully designed, is still flawed.
I’m convinced, as my doctor confirmed yesterday, as a doctor in clinical psychology myself, that my emotional challenges are hormone driven, at least mostly. I’m in that stage of life at nearly 56. And I hate it. I pray you youngsters under 56 never experience what I’m experiencing. But know that many, like me, our “the change” in our mid-30’s.
You are not CRAZY!
Yet, I hate not being able to control my mind, my body, my emotions. On top of the change in life stuff, I have to deal with some toxic relations in my life. I will not go into detail, but suffice it to say, these people in my life are not going away, anytime soon, as far as I know. And rest assured, I am not talking about my husband or kids, who are a salve for my soul.
Also know that I am seeking God with my whole heart to change ME, to heal ME, to help ME love the hurtful like he loves them. I fail miserably, I admit. But I keep praying and trying.
It’s hard and painful and, quite frankly, I’m not very good at loving the narcissistic yet, especially when those I need to love who treat me horribly, according to his holy commands, not by their narcissistic demands.
But my God, your God, our God is WITH US. He is with me.
He will help me.
I need to remember . . .
Jesus is coming again for me, for all who believe and follow him whole-heartedly.
Even now, Jesus is helping me, you, all the blind, to see, to heal.
So I’m thankful for simple gifts like a single goose and a pair of cranes searching, readying, reminding me of how God always brings about new . . .
Spring from winter.
Life from death.
Good from pain.
Restored from broken.
I’m thankful for all the new beginnings we have with God.
His mercies are new every day, every season.