A brick pathway runs along one side of our home. Sandwiched between the brick sidewalk and the foundation of our home is a three-foot wide by thirty feet long garden of hydrangeas, gardenias, jasmine that has now wrapped itself nicely around the wrought iron railing adjacent to our side steps and the most prominent member of the garden: our Fiddlehead Ferns. Fiddlehead Ferns, when first bursting forth from the ground, produce tiny little stems, or fronds that are coiled, closely resembling the end of a violin neck called the scroll. At our home, the emergence of these beauties marks the beginning of Spring. Every year, we enjoy watching the fronds unfurl into full bodied ferns. Since ferns are tropical plants by nature, they thrive in the South. The humidity we often dread in our area actually creates the perfect greenhouse for our ferns to flourish.
Usually around late November, when we’ve had a few cold snaps in temperature, the ferns react with an angry display of bleak, brown leaves in sharp contrast to their once lush, green leaves and therefore they demand immediate attention. So, we cut them down to the ground, and cover the entire bed of ground level stems with thick layers of pine straw, blanketing them from the winter cold. And then, we wait. For we know that in a few months, their tiny little furled fronds will appear, ushering in the season of Spring.
That’s much like our faith journey as believers, isn’t it? In the waiting seasons of our lives, we hope for the promise of Jesus to meet us in our need, to give us grace as we wait. Winter has its own beauty with the Christmas season of joy and then the new year, welcoming in a breath of fresh hope. But sometimes, the winter cold of our lives can be marked with sorrow, loss, uncertainty and waiting. It is then, dear friend, that we need to tether our hope to the gospel. It is then that I need to remind myself to counsel my heart with the truth; that Jesus is my hope. His Word planted deep in the fertile soil of my heart is the solid foundation I need to stand on in my seasons of waiting. In the midst of winter, when the bitter cold of harsh winds blow against my face when I first step outdoors, it’s hard to imagine months ahead that milder temperatures will return.
WEARY IN THE WAITING
The Israelites knew the dismay of waiting. In Exodus 32:1-4 we read: “When the people saw that Moses delayed coming down from the mountain, the people gathered themselves together to Aaron and said to him, ‘Up, make us gods who shall go before us. As for this Moses, the man who brought us up out of the land of Egypt, we do not know what has become of him.’” What is so surprising about this passage is that these words are spoken after a little over a month after Moses had sprinkled the people with blood and they cried out, “All that the Lord has spoken we will do, and we will be obedient.” (Ex. 24:7). Lost faith. Turned away. Dismay and disobedience. All because they were weary in their waiting and turned to Aaron to “make gods” for them. Before we judge this catastrophic display of idol worship, let’s consider our own hearts. Oh, how quickly I forget the Lord’s mercies and past faithfulness! How about you, dear friend?
ASKING THE RIGHT QUESTIONS
Could it be that God is offering us the gift of waiting? The joy in the journey itself of discovering that God is faithful and is near to the broken hearted and that He is in the middle of our wondering what His purposes may be in the cold winter seasons of our lives. Consider asking yourself three questions in your journey from Winter to Spring in the uncertainty of life’s circumstances.
- Is there anything you’re hanging onto that you need to surrender?
- How has God been faithful in your life in the past?
- What could God be trying to show you in your present season?
THE HOPE OF SPRING
It never fails to amaze me that usually in the last bitter cold of Winter, just when I feel like Spring is a distant hope, that my Fiddlehead Ferns surprise me and start popping up out of the hard soil underneath the blanket of pine straw. They stubbornly push their way up, their tiny scroll like fronds tightly coiled just above the soil’s surface. Then little by little, they grow into a lush blanket of fully formed ferns.
Like the Israelites waiting forty days for Moses to come down from the mountain, I feel frustrated in my uncertain seasons. Alone. Isolated. At this crossroad in my disappointment, I am offered the choice to allow my delayed expectations to lead me to make poor decisions, possibly reject God and go after “other gods” who I think will please me or bend to my will, OR I can trust that God is in control and that my waiting is NEVER wasted.
2 Corinthians says it this way: “But we have this treasure in jars of clay, to show that the surpassing power belongs to God and not to us. We are afflicted in every way, but not crushed; perplexed, but not driven to despair; persecuted, but not forsaken; struck down, but not destroyed; always carrying in the body the death of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may also be manifested in our bodies…So, we do not lose heart. Though our outer self is wasting away, our inner self is being renewed day by day. For this light momentary affliction is preparing for us an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison, as we look not to the things that are seen, but to the things that are unseen. For the things that are seen are transient, but the things that are unseen are eternal. (2 Corinthians 4:7-10, 16-18)
Consider, friend, that we may appreciate the beauty of Spring because of the harshness of Winter. Consider, too, as we endure with hope in life’s uncertain times, in loss, in devastation, we are putting on display the reality that Jesus really is enough; that others may be drawn to seek the Lord by watching how we walk through suffering, waiting or loss. Long, dark days of waiting turn into weeks and months, even years, tempting us to lose heart and lose hope. But, the fresh rains of Spring surely come, ushering in new growth and the promise of our Savior’s resurrection hope. The hope of the resurrection is like a hope not to be compared with any earthly offering of hope. Our hope is eternal. Our hope is sure. Our hope is Jesus. He offers us Himself in the midst of the winters of our waiting and the dark days of dismay and despair. When our hope is tethered to the gospel, we can withstand life’s circumstances with a joy that only Christ can give. This is gospel hope indeed.
