For everything there is a season.
We had a lovely, rainy, mild spring here in Texas.
Which makes for gorgeous flowers. I walked around our yard with my camera one evening to take pictures of the color. The result of a mild spring with lots of rain.
I've been reading Streams in the Desert lately. It's been tucked away for quite some time, but I dug it out, needing to hear that "God has made me fruitful in the land of my suffering." Genesis 41:52.
I have to be careful, because I can let my heart be so very ungrateful. And even a little bitter. And a lot jealous. These have always been my struggles, but especially when there's something out there I want that I can't have.
I want the outcome of my difficulties to look like these pictures, not dried up branches with nothing left to give.
These flowers are tangible evidence that rain can bring flowers.
I'm thankful that God has me. And those things that I want... He would give them to me if it were for my good.
Maybe His answer is wait. Maybe it's no. I'm not sure at this point.
But for everything there is a season.
And I want more than anything for the result of this season in my life to be fruit... love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control.
I'll end this with words from one of my favorite hymns. We sang an arrangement of this in the choir when I was in college. The words meant something different to me then than they do now. I think it will always be one of my favorites.
- O Love that wilt not let me go,I rest my weary soul in thee;I give thee back the life I owe,That in thine ocean depths its flowMay richer, fuller be.
- O light that foll’west all my way,I yield my flick’ring torch to thee;My heart restores its borrowed ray,That in thy sunshine’s blaze its dayMay brighter, fairer be.
- O Joy that seekest me through pain,I cannot close my heart to thee;I trace the rainbow through the rain,And feel the promise is not vain,That morn shall tearless be.
- O Cross that liftest up my head,I dare not ask to fly from thee;I lay in dust life’s glory dead,And from the ground there blossoms redLife that shall endless be.
5 comments:
This post came at such an interesting time for me (and coming from you it makes it more significant) because just the other day I was twirling my seasons ring on my finger(the one you and Chris gave me when I left Texas. And yes, I still wear it!) and I realized how long it has been since I reflected on the meaning of that ring and the story you gave me when you gave it to me. The seasons of my life and what God has in store for me in each season. It is amazing how often I wish myself to be out of one season and into another without really being present in the season He currently has me in. Thanks for the reminder. And thanks for the ring that is a reminder for me! :)
Sarah, I often read your blog but rarely comment. I had to say something when I read these words that just resounded, "I can let my heart be so very ungrateful. And even a little bitter. And a lot jealous." I have been fiercely praying against these things that pop up in my own heart, and much to my dismay they are not leaving as quickly as I would like. I am hoping that God is using them to make me look more like Himself and to bring me to Him more often, and it is nice to know that I'm not alone. Thanks for this sweet post. And it WAS a great spring here!
S - love the photos, just gorgeous. Your words and thoughts behind them even more beautiful. Agreeing with you that suffering is indeed not wasted, but a vehicle towards beauty.
Such good and true words. Thank you Sarah. We have had different experiences, I consider you to have so many more reasons to struggle with such things, but I do struggle with the same. The desires of our hearts is the same. You expressed this in such a beautiful way. I love you friend.
S-- I see LOTS of beauty in YOU and how you are submitting to all that is going on. Thanks for challenging me to do the same. I LOVE the words to that hymn.... my favorite verse:
O Joy that seekest me through pain,
I cannot close my heart to thee;
I trace the rainbow through the rain,
And feel the promise is not vain,
That morn shall tearless be.
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