Where are we?

Thinking this week about the beautiful world.

My back yard is changing quickly. From winter's brown to green; from bare branches to buds and flowers. The seeds I planted a month ago are doing as well as they possibly can given my neglect.

I came in from the rain hungry and ate a slice of peanut butter bread. I'm still hungry, but Paul and I are going out to dinner so I"ll resist eating more. I just ran by Kelle and Dan's to deliver dresses for the three sweet little girls and was welcomed with kisses and hugs by Maddie and Lily, 15 months and three years old (Lucy was sleeping).

What a wonderful world!

But of course the world is also a battle field. Each day I listen to stories of abuse and violence; I have friends who are experiencing such unloveliness in family behaviors; one friend is tempted to separate from extended family members because of a failure to follow through on something that was promised; I ran into a friend at the gym and learned that she is no longer on speaking terms with her son. Another friend has tried for years to foster reconciliation between her two young adult children.

Yesterday I received an email from a friend who claims her husband muscled her out of their home and she is once more homeless and penniless. Another dear friend's son will not allow my friend to see her only grandchild because she will not fully embrace his decisions.

A family I know waits while a loved one recovers from complications from recent open heart surgery; a friend sorrowfully watches her father decline and retreat into dementia; a dear friend is coming up on the anniversary of her second husband's death; a young man was deployed to Afghanistan and his family is cleaning up from his send-off; the daughter of a neighbor was recently diagnosed with an inoperable brain tumor; a long-time friend continues to endure pain and fatigue in her five-year battle against cancer.

Reports issue from the battle fields of Afghanistan and now Libya where children are viewed so cheaply that they are drafted and then murdered by their own military leaders. Religious systems  excuse abuse against citizens who are women.

Honestly, where do we live?  A battle field or garden? 

A new heaven and new earth will no more magically appear than did the present old one we are either protecting or killing.  Any new birth requires labor; our new earth will be born from grace and the willing cooperation of redeemed and renewed minds, hearts and hands.

The earth is God's and everything in it; surely God hears the groaning of Creation under our care.  God suffered the death of his beloved Son; perhaps God will transform the sharpness of of his death into labor pains that will result in new life, a new way, and a brand new day.

In these days of labor we groan.  Be we also laugh; we sigh and smile and weep. And hope and pray and wait in this terrible and wonderful world.