My childhood in Namibia afforded me so many wonderful experiences. Living in a small coastal desert town, where the majestic and expansive Namib sand dunes meet the vast Atlantic ocean,
is something that I now only truly realize was more than unusual. One of my fondest memories was when the Swakop River
FINALLY reached the ocean, once every 7 years or so, mind you. It seemed our entire little town would gather at the mouth of the river at sundown. As children we would dig crazily, not too unlike a dog in ferocious search of a lost bone, to create tunnels that would eventually lead the trickle of water into the ocean. And as children we would cheer loudly, as our parents in the background would clink their bottles of local lager. Life seemed to stand still in that moment!
Come to think of it though, most things back home stood still, stayed the same. Rapid change was not part of our landscape. The sand dunes changed their shape over very slow periods of time, the
river bed remained dry, but for once every 7 years. The towns people stayed the
same, no one left, and the variance in the weather was but 5 degrees
between winter and summer. Yes life stayed the same, there was little
change and we liked it that way. It formed us.
But as God would have it, someone did leave.
And that someone was me. And now I find myself in a new country where things change at a rapid pace. People come and people go. Things move at a much much faster pace and yes the variance between summer and winter is not a mere 5 but 80 degrees. It's stark. And so it's no wonder that while sameness is something I crave, there is one change I am always desperately looking to speed up, if only I had the power to. That change from the dead of winter to the new life of spring. But it's a very slow and steady change.
It seems a lifetime til the little green tufts of grass finally start to appear, even while the cold white snow still covers the solid hard ground.
It seems a lifetime til the first shoots start to appear at the ends of brown lifeless trees limbs.
And just when I doubt it will ever happen, I see the first flowers: purple crocuses, yellow daffodils and the glory of the tulip that remind me life is not all cold and dead after all.
A new season is approaching. The new is emerging. Change is finally here! And while I wish I could hasten it, not too unlike a dog in ferocious search of a lost bone, I cannot. No matter how much I want to, I just simply cannot. And in fact even more profoundly, this slowness actually changes and shapes me.
And so also in this three-year season of transition we have been in, that all too often has felt cold, lifeless, like the dead of winter and that spring will never ever arrive, this Easter I am filled with a
renewed hope that the buds are opening and our spring is upon us! And so
I wait. Trust. Rest in my Lord for His
timing. Rest in the one who is able to bring life from the dead. Because
He is the one who brought me my Savior, the very one who died for me
and rose from
the dead so that indeed I can have a new life!
The ultimate transformation from the dead of winter to the glory of spring!
