Behold, I am doing a new thing

Behold, I am doing 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.
                                                                                                                                   Isaiah 43:19
 
It seems like light years ago, the COVID lockdown. Those early days of fear and confusion, of being caught between the strangeness of the present and the uncertainty of the future. Still, as those days stretched into months and the danger was identified and categorized, something was becoming clear---potential.

With totally unanticipated free time and unforeseen personal freedom, a new life was in the making. Who could have imagined, in our world of never-ending “things to do, people to see, places to go,” that we would be afforded a pause, a break in the non-stop routine.

We all have our stories of that period, the things we did or didn’t do and how we found something thought lost to time. Now, as those days fade further into the folds of memory, many have found that they have changed more than they had realized. It has become obvious that some changes were deeper than imagined and we are just now realizing what that might mean.

It is always this way with change, it happens fast, but not deep--it happens deep, but not fast. The change we think we know is really more shock and response than anything else, oh, there is true change there, but it is shallow at best. It takes time for the true abiding change to be made known, the change that was rooted deep down and required time to press its way to the surface. We become aware of it in little ways, small awarenesses. Like a tender shoot poking up through the undergrowth, mostly missable and unimportant, this change grows.

We are miraculous creatures, able to encounter and overcome incredible adversity. We adapt and maneuver through our lives, instantly recognizing, prioritizing, saving and jettisoning new stimuli by the millisecond. When these small shoots of change grow large enough for true notice, they are delt with quickly, nurtured or trampled underfoot. We are vaguely aware, however, that those we dispatch with abandon are never truly gone, having timeless roots.

Behold, I am doing 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.
                                                                                                                                   Isaiah 43:19
God not only exists in the change that brought about the roots, but in the roots, the shoot and our moment of awareness. In fact, God is present through and through every moment of every encounter we have ever had and will ever have. Remember? God is. It is the truest thing that will ever be true, forever and for always. God is showing us the way through every way to God’s self and trying to teach us to slow down.

God does not orchestrate crisis or chaos, God did not create COVID. No matter what the events of life, God uses every moment to create the possibility of change within change. God also creates the opportunity to recognize and prioritize at a slightly lower rate, with a bit more deliberation so as not to jettison that which should be fostered.

Behold, I am doing 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.
                                                                                                                                   Isaiah 43:19
After all we have been though, where is God showing us the blessing of the new thing? How we see and know God in the every moment of possibility is, in fact, the new thing God is talking about. Everything is connected. The all and the every lead back to God. If we dig down, delving to find the root of that little shoot, we will find a mighty root nurtured by a divine hand.
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We have had the experience, forced to slow down. Use what you know, slow down and dig, embrace the new thing.

Slowly digging,
Fr. Bill†