Witnessing transformation

I've been getting up early every morning this week to take a walk, think, and pray before I enter the busyness of the day. There's a little trail behind the parking lots that runs the length of the campus. There are a lot of trees, a little creek, and a bridge near the end of the trail that's good to rest on. It's not a very long walk, but I enjoy the Trinity Trail because, even though I can see campus through the trees, I feel like I'm in a hidden world. In the mornings birds and bugs and an occasional duck are my company while I sit on the bridge and watch the sun rise.

What's been especially striking to me this week, though, is how much the scenery of the trail has changed in just a few days. On Monday morning, though it was a sunny day, the trail was mostly gray. I was excited about the little sprouts of grass I saw, and was even happy to see the green of the weeds, because that's about all the green there was. Every morning since then, there's been a noticeable difference, even from one day to the next. New trees would begin to sprout leaves, and new plants would begin to bud. Monday morning I saw mostly gray; today it was mostly green. I feel like it all happened right before my eyes.

I think we take pleasure in growth because it's a sign of the presence of God. Whether it's a tree blooming, a baby growing up (or us continuing to grow up!), or anything else, we can see His hand. While we can certainly help produce good conditions for growth, the process itself is a mystery that is beyond us. He alone does the work, and we are left watching in thankful amazement.

Maybe we take pleasure in growth, too, because it's a reminder of a promise that's been made to us. What we are now is not the fullness of what we'll someday be. Like Paul says in one of his letters to the church in Corinth, whether we're alive or dead when Jesus returns, we'll all be changed. With all the beauty and dignity and evidence of God that fills our bodies and our very lives right now, we see only a seed that's about to burst with more vibrance and life and purity than we could ever imagine. Like the trees in the Trinity Trail, we'll still be recognizable - we'll still be us. But we will have blossomed.

I'm excited to see it...and for us to see it in each other. What a hope that is promised, and what a God that will surely make it happen!