Easter Water

Do not remember the former things, or consider the things of old.
I am about to do a new thing; now it springs forth,
do you not perceive it?
I will make a way in the wilderness and rivers in the desert.
The wild animals will honor me, the jackals and the ostriches;
For I give water in the wilderness, rivers in the desert,
To give drink to my chosen people,
the people whom I formed for myself,
So that they might declare my praise. (Isaiah 43:18-21)

It’s a strange promise God makes, when you think about it. God doesn’t promise to subdue the wilderness; only to make a way through it. God doesn’t promise to take away the desert, or take you out of it, only to find some water in it…. The only promise is to make a way and to find the water, so that even the wild animals and partners and ordinary people will stop and see the new thing, and honor God.

I think that is the promise for us, for all of us. God will do a new thing. No matter how wonderful things seem to us today, God will do a new thing. No matter how tired we may be tomorrow, God will do a new thing. No matter how mundane the routine, or sleepless the night, or painful the argument, God will do a new thing. And it isn’t clear what that will be; there is no promise to fix or mend or put more hours in the day. There is only the promise to make a way in the wilderness, a river in the desert—if we will look for it. “I am about to do a new thing,” says God.
Anna Carter Florence – on 30 Good Minutes

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This was the passage we studied in our class on Easter Sunday, and as often happens, timely. At the end of our first service we had to call an ambulance to assist with a member who had fallen; later x-rays proved the hip was broken. I thought it was going to be hard enough to return to work after a week of vacation, but instead of slowly reacquainting myself to the office was quickly thrust into the world of rearranging priorities. In our small department of seven people, one was with a spouse at MD Anderson for cancer treatment, one was with a spouse in the emergency room for critical care, and our dear secretary became a widow, again, Sunday night.

“God doesn’t promise to take away the desert, or take you out of it,
only to find some water in it.”

Even living in the glory of Easter Sunday doesn’t separate us from the desert we sometimes journey, but gloriously we are provided water: friends on whom we can rely, words of encouragement, hands of healing, prayers of support, and experiences that bring a better understanding of God’s hand in our lives. This is still the continuing story of Easter.

My prayer for the congregation?

Sustaining God, You are our comfort, our guide, our strength. We turn our eyes and hearts toward You in times of need and in times of praise. Let us not separate the two but praise you as we seek your aide. Help us to provide water for those pilgrims in the desert. Keep our eyes aware of their plight, our hearts receptive to their needs, and our hands ready in response. Amen.