Now and Not Yet

We are in the midst of February when it is largely dreary, gray and dark.  And we are weary of winter.  Yes, another storm is coming.  And we are grateful that February is the shortest month on the calendar.

But this is not the end of the story.  February is just a season getting ready for the curtains to part and God's glory to burst forth in full color.  That is what waiting for God is all about, staking our lives on God's love, grateful for what we have seen, confident even in what we have not yet seen.

Just because we cannot see results does not mean nothing is happening.  February is sending down deeper roots, far beyond our vision, preparing for what is to come.  God never works in singular outcomes and not always in what is visible to us.

The essence of hope is that spring comes every year and sneaks up on us.  And suddenly without fanfare, daffodils appear.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

My father who grew up in Brooklyn and lived most of his life in frigid Chicago would tell me about this time every year, "Every day is one day closer to spring."  Those words helped me trudge through the snow on the way to school.

God gives us the strength we need for today and bright hope for tomorrow.

If we really grasped that God is with us and is already at work, how differently would we face the hard stuff?   How different our journey day by day, even on the dreary days?  We can have joy.

And that is contagious.

Scripture is full of descriptions and metaphors about weather -- clouds by day, tumultuous storms, floods, drought.  Over the gale force winds and waves that threaten us, Jesus still whispers, "Peace, be still."  Do not fear.  Do not be dismayed.  "I am with you."

Our hope is not that February will pass quickly by, but that we grasp His Presence in every hour of it.

Not just surviving with every day one day closer, but living with anticipation in the now and the not yet.  Not His glory coming next month or the month after, but today in unexpected ways.

Though the fig tree should not blossom,

nor fruit be on the vines,

the produce of the olive fail

   and the fields yield no food,

the flock be cut off from the fold

  and there be no herd in the stalls,

yet

    I will rejoice in the LORD;

I will take joy in the God of my salvation.

God, the Lord, is my strength;

He makes my feet like the deer's;

He makes me tread on my high places.

                        Habakkuk 3. 17-19

We don't just wait for Him to act,

    but know He is already with us.

The word tread in Old Testament Hebrew

     does not mean slog through or endure

                      but dance.

Find a way to dance in God's faithfulness

       even today.