Matthew Earle
St. Gertrude Writing Group
What treasures we can witness in nature. Even moments we miss can be captured and played again on command. Technology allows us to condense days of footage into less than a minute. During a time-lapse video of an Easter lily, it will effortlessly bloom and then wither and fade.
Watch a time-lapse video of a dandelion. It simply responds to the rays of the sun. The outer layer of petals open up first to stretch. Then, a second layer explodes to gather up every ounce of light. The days it took for this phenomenon to happen seem to be spent in pure bliss. Something so small and meek as a flower can strike such awe in us.
These are troubling times. Troubles that can swallow someone up, that seem too big to face. As if storm clouds have rolled over the light. Our faith wavers like a small flower in a strong wind. A desperate call slips from our lips for deliverance from our predicament, from the suffering received at the hands of our perceived enemies.
Jesus called out in similar fashion in the Gospel of John: “Now is my soul troubled. And what shall I say? ‘Father, save me from this hour’” (John 12:27)?
His humanity is on full display as he names his misery. So often we find ourselves either despairing or heaping hot coals upon our heads. As we question our value and worth, our purpose in life is sucked up in an isolating storm. We condemn ourselves, which leaves us questioning our own existence.
Why are we here?
When faced with suffering, we can easily slip into despair. What’s the remedy? When Jesus was troubled, he answered by saying: “No, for this purpose I have come to this hour” (John 12:27).
He does not command the suffering to cease. He is not asking for a simple life, void of pain. He trusts the Father completely as we trust the sun to rise each day. Jesus desires the Father’s will to be done.
We do not know the limitless ways of the Father, so we trust in him. And when we surrender our attempts to control our situation, we can let the light in. The warmth can expand our hearts as we detach from our anxious needs.
Our pain is real. The loss of a close friend or job, facing pressure at work, politics. Pain from strained relationships, families and nations being torn apart.
How can we hold onto hope?
By accepting that the Father’s radiance is real. As the dandelion opens from the warmth of the sun, so can our hearts open. And as our hearts explode, amid suffering, there is Jesus. Jesus, the one who dwells in the secret chamber of our hearts—the second layer of petals. He is there to embrace us in our own suffering as we trust and surrender to the Father who loved us first.
We can choose to receive the light each hour so that when we look back on our life, we do not see a gift wasted, but God glorified. We can hope in the face of suffering. How? By turning and opening up to the Father and accepting that our current hour is of God.