Tuesday, June 5, 2012

From Those Dark Plantings

Looking over some of my stored-away "breadbox letters" recently, I came across a copy of a letter I sent to friends some years ago.  This came right on the heels of the darkest period of my life... 

"This winter I forgot how to hope for Spring.  Not only was I in grief over the death of a loved one, but I felt that God Himself had moved far away.  He had not done so, of course - my perception of His distance was only a feeling.  Jesus was near, even though I had no awareness of His presence.  I loved God simply by an act of will.  I found myself face to face with every word I'd ever written or spoken about choosing to love the will of God. 

I've begun to see God's wisdom in allowing me to go through such profound darkness devoid of any sense that He was with me  As a result of this desolation, I now know that even in the harshest of spiritual winters, we can choose God.  We can, no matter the depth of winter, choose to live for Him.  We can do so in consolation and we can do so just as freely in spiritual barrenness.  There is great freedom in such realization.

I write this on a day bursting with the beauty of Spring.  Just last night I stood in a meadow filled with fireflies. These glowing creatures flickered in trees around and the effect was magical; I felt like a child in a wonderland.  The scent of flowers overwhelmed me - honeysuckle and clover and various unidentified varieties of weeds.  The entire world seemed to have burst into such exquisite beauty that it was almost too much for five little senses to bear.  I was surprised to find myself wondering what this same meadow would have been like in February, with trees barren and stark, with ground ice-encrusted, with no sign of fireflies and no pungent scent of flowers.

Plants need their seasons of dormancy as much as they need the warmth and sunlight of summer.  I've thought in recent weeks of how a seed might feel (could it do so) during long months with no sign of the sun.  Nothing would appear to be happening.  All might seem empty and hopeless.  Yet the appearance of such lifelessness would be far from the truth.  The truth is:  'unless the grain falls to the earth and dies, it remains just a grain.. but if it dies, it produces much fruit.'  (John 12:24).  The burial of a seed in the ground is not the end of the plant - it is a beginning.  The seed must lie hidden beneath the soil before a plant can spring forth, and then time must go by before that plant produces leaves... flowers... fruit...

It would appear that God's seasons are part of His "lesson plan."  I have begun to see His cycles of planting, budding, growing, blooming, fruit-bearing, dormancy and new growth as an unmistakable parable...."

I pray to plumb the depths of this parable and bring forth fruit for my Lord Jesus Christ.

(this blog is now open to followers and comments)

10 comments:

  1. Some of the most cherished aspects of my life have come from the darkest moments. I truly feel as though the greatest gifts I have received in life have come from the most difficult times I have endured. At the time you can't imagine that years later you will look back and think ... I am a better person now than I might have been.

    Such a great post, Nancy--thank you!

    ReplyDelete
  2. Thank you, Holly. No, at the time we cannot imagine even getting through traumas and griefs, much less becoming better people. Thank God for His comfort and mercy!

    ReplyDelete
  3. Beautiful post and profoundly true. Thank you.

    ReplyDelete
  4. Thank you so much, Amy. And if anyone reading this needs a smile, I suggest you drop by "Beautiful Whispers of Catholicism" to see the "Confessional Cartoon!"

    ReplyDelete
  5. Thank you Nancy, this is a beautiful post. I also really like The Cloistered Heart and look forward to reading more there and here. So glad to have found your blogs!

    ReplyDelete
  6. Thank you so much, Kathryn, and welcome! Your blog, Heart for God, is an absolute feast for eyes and heart.

    ReplyDelete
  7. Hi Nancy,
    A few times I have wanted to leave comments on your Cloistered Heart blog - but there is no link for comments? Is that on purpose, or is it just me? I absolutely loved your post on viewing our whole lives through the 'grille' of God's will for us. Sometimes I feel like I'm slow or it takes me longer than most others to respond to requests on my time, talent or money, but if my life is seen through the grille of God's will, then I have all the time in the world to take in and discern what God requires of me.

    ReplyDelete
  8. Hi, Sarah - I'm so glad you stopped by here with your comment!! I've kept the Cloistered Heart a "quiet" blog on purpose (sort of like monastics observing a vow of silence :)?), and in fact have just this week .. with much help... enabled comments on this blog. Just today, I've been considering various options to either open the CH blog to comments maybe once monthly-ish, or to perhaps post a link over to here now and then for a day; like a "meeting in the parlor". Sounds "unique," doesn't it?! And what will I finally wind up doing...? Stay tuned... AAHH THE SUSPENSE..! Again, I thank you so much. Your blog The Feminine Gift is a real treasure.

    ReplyDelete
  9. Hi, Sarah - I'm so glad you stopped by here with your comment!! I've kept the Cloistered Heart a "quiet" blog on purpose (sort of like monastics observing a vow of silence :)?), and in fact have just this week .. with much help... enabled comments on this blog. Just today, I've been considering various options to either open the CH blog to comments maybe once monthly-ish, or to perhaps post a link over to here now and then for a day; like a "meeting in the parlor". Sounds "unique," doesn't it?! And what will I finally wind up doing...? Stay tuned... AAHH THE SUSPENSE..! Again, I thank you so much. Your blog The Feminine Gift is a real treasure.

    ReplyDelete
  10. Ah, thank you Nancy. Your writing speaks to my heart as well. Thank you! And I will definitely stay tuned.

    ReplyDelete