Predictable Hope

Isn’t the beauty of nature phenomenal? Mother Nature surely wreaks havoc as headlines proclaim, but luckily the beauty trumps the destruction most days. God must have had a blast creating the world, don’t you think? From little baby hummingbirds to big fat ostriches. How fun! Elephants have been a favorite of mine since I was a child. They fascinate me.

The oceans, the stars, the flowers and trees. We take so much for granted. We believe the sun will rise tomorrow and tomorrow’s tomorrow. We count on it. We expect it. Spring shall follow winter in my corner of the world with rain showering away the dirty clumps of snow pushed from roadways. Birds begin to sing, start feathering their nests.

I know I’m thinking spring a little early. We’re not out of January yet, but it’s a hopeful notion. Something better is coming. I think it says something about how good our God is when we remember that the lovely, the awe-inspiring facets of nature are the ones that are predictable. What if every single day we had an earthquake, a forest fire, a flood? Who would want to wake up knowing destruction was coming?

But that isn’t how our world is. The good is predictable; the bad is sporadic. And the bad always brings out the good in God’s people. Relief efforts to Haiti are overwhelming. People open their generous hearts when faced with such an in-your-face catastrophe. I wonder if these earthquakes, hurricanes and tsunami aren’t a wake-up call from God. The press is all over them. Our eyes are opened to the urgent need. We send money. We pray.

I think that God may set these larger than life tragedies before us because we have become numb to the child who goes to sleep hungry each and every night with an empty belly. One hungry child is no less tragic than thousands of hurricane victims. God wasn’t kidding when He said, “Feed My lambs.”

The reality of people on this great earth going to sleep hungry each night has been increasingly disturbing to me. I know I must do more to help. God is nudging me. Volunteering at a soup kitchen or filling food baskets at church alleviate some of the hurt, but the need is so great. I want to make a difference. I want to be part of an answer. I want to be a source of hope for a hungry person. The “mom thing” was my first calling. Maybe helping those less fortunate than I will be part of my second calling – my writing. I hope so.