Waiting... Waiting... Waiting...

I’ve had a sort of feeling that nature isn’t the – bother!  How to put it into words? – the perfect, composed, beautiful, unrestrained thing it ought to be.  That even the most bright of summers; the most gorgeous, wondrous, snowy white winters; the most hopeful, young springs; and the most beautiful falls; it’s not quite right.  Something is missing – not as it should be.  The quiet, twilights; sparkling stars; crisp, shining, silvery frosts; bold blue skies; quiet nights; all seem haunting, somehow.  Haunting – as if, even in all the radiant beauty, there’s some ghost of something that could have been - or should have been.

Surely the fallen nature of the universe has something to do with it – it’s really the cause of it.  But that’s not it entirely.  If that was the whole story, there should be an air of finality about it.  But there isn’t.  If anything, there is a hush, as of waiting.

And I’ve finally put my finger on the reason.  I don’t know why I never saw it before – it’s been staring me in the face for years.  It’s in Romans:

“For the creation waits with eager longing for the revealing of the sons of God.  For the creation was subjected to futility, not willingly, but because of him who subjected it, in hope that the creation itself will be set free from its bondage to corruption and obtain the freedom of the glory of the children of God.  For we know that the whole creation has been groaning together in the pains of childbirth until now.  And not only the creation, but we ourselves, who have the first fruits of the Spirit, groan inwardly as we wait eagerly for the adoption as sons, the redemption of our bodies.  For in this hope we were saved.  Now hope that is seen is not hope.  For who hopes for what he sees?  But if we hope for what we do not see, we wait for it in patience.” ~Romans 8:19-25 (ESV)

Creation is a ghost of what it was – and what it will be.  That is why it sometimes seems so haunting.  The hush is one of longing anticipation.  And I share in that anticipation because the reason for it is within me as well.  Hope.

In clear crisp mornings, the sun peeps over the horizon and there is a whisper of hope in the wind – a hope that all will yet be right with the world, a promise of things to come.

It’s nice to know the reasons why.

~M.