Sunday, July 14, 2013

Groaning


Groaning.
It’s what children do. It’s what my husband does nowadays when he reaches down to pick something up. It’s what I do when the dishwasher breaks or the dinner burns or my daughter tells me she wants to have a home birthday party with 15 friends. It’s what we all do as we glance at the calendar and realize how few summer days are left.
Even the very earth groans. We’ve experienced it up close and personal in Colorado Springs this summer. While others hear the earth groan through earthquakes and tornadoes, we hear it in wildfires that eat up our houses and mudslides that sweep our cars off the road. I hear it in the weeds in my garden and my restless chickens bloodying one another with their tireless pecking. The earth groans, along with all who are in it.
“For the creation waits in eager expectation for the children of God to be revealed. For the creation was subjected to frustration, not by its own choice, but by the will of the one who subjected it, in hope that the creation itself will be liberated from its bondage to decay and brought into the freedom and glory of the children of God. We know that the whole creation has been groaning as in the pains of childbirth right up to the present time” (Romans 8:19–22).
Picture it: all of creation standing on tiptoe, waiting in great expectation for God to redeem it. Longing for God to at last step in. Creation fell alongside mankind. Adam and Eve’s rebellion against God didn’t just affect their offspring; it brought death and decay to everything on earth. And creation didn’t have any say in it! Can the oceans really know they were made for peace and not destruction? Can the winds know they were intended to provide gentle relief, not to wreak havoc? Our minds are not used to assigning such complex feelings to inanimate objects, but Scripture says it is so. And we all feel the effects of its groaning.
Picture all of creation shouting out to God: “When, Lord? When will you bring final redemption to your children and to us? When will you liberate us from this curse and bring us into the fullness of who you made us to be? We’re ready, Lord! We’re waiting!”
Not hard to imagine, is it, because we’re groaning right alongside creation. The next verse of Romans 8 says: “Not only so, but we ourselves . . . groan inwardly as we wait eagerly for . . . the redemption of our bodies.” A redeemed body? One that doesn’t make bad choices or hurt other people or just hurt period? Bring it on, Lord! I’m groaning, too!
Eugene Peterson amplifies the highly relatable picture of pregnancy to describe this longing: All around us we observe a pregnant creation. The difficult times of pain throughout the world are simply birth pangs. But it’s not only around us; it’s within us. The Spirit of God is arousing us within. We’re also feeling the birth pangs. These sterile and barren bodies of ours are yearning for full deliverance. That is why waiting does not diminish us, any more than waiting diminishes a pregnant mother. We are enlarged in the waiting. We, of course, don’t see what is enlarging us. But the longer we wait, the larger we become, and the more joyful our expectancy” (Romans 8:22–25, The Message).

The waiting is hard, painful at times, and sometimes we can only groan our way through it, but it enlarges us and creates in us a joyful expectation. It stirs us to recognize that we have been made for far more than we’re experiencing here and now. Keep groaning, friends, and know that you’re in very good company.