When the Hope of Spring Comes Early

The last few days, Justin and I went to a "Welcome to the URC" course up north in Windermere, which is in the Lake District in Cumbria.  We spent time with others new to the denomination (the United Reformed Church), and learned all about its history, theology, and structure.

In one of the final worship times we had as a group, we were invited to each choose a postcard from a random selection spread on the floor in front of us.  I picked up one that had a charcoal drawing by Roy Wright called "You Can Never Hold Back Spring IV."  We were given time to reflect on the postcards, listening for how God was speaking to us through the images.

You Can Never Hold Back Spring IV

If you click on the image so it enlarges, you see that the gnarled, old tree is starting to show signs that it is ready to burst into the first blooms of Spring.

The tree has obviously been pruned a few times, but more likely from needing to take off snapped branches, and less for looks.  Twisted branches and random bulges give the tree character, and you inherently know that this tree will last a few more years, even if storms pass through.

It came to mind that though this image represents a season that we have yet to start planning for (since we're just now stepping into Winter), it does says something about the season of Advent that we're about to enter into.  We might often ascribe spring-like feelings to the longing for Easter, but this year, and at this time, the longing is for something new to blossom.  We long in Advent for the long-expected hope that we will be silenced in the arrival of a child whose character will be spoken of for many seasons in the future.  That is what this image says to me, though we are in the dark days of the Northern Hemisphere's winter, growing shorter and darker, both in a physical sense and in what can feel like a spiritual sense.  The world is messy, with twisted branches and random bulges, but is the birth of hope just around the corner?

I also post Justin's choice below, and though I won't speak much to what Justin reflected on, there is also a note of hopeful anticipation in a bird's first flight...Leaping off into a new experience, getting ready to see things from a different perspective.

First Flight by Nicolette Savage

What's in a name?

There's a lot in a person's name.  Some time ago, I skimmed through a book that dealt with the phenomenon of how our names often end up reflecting our personality, interests, or perhaps even outlook on life.  Perhaps some might think this has more to do with thinking along the lines of astrology and our 'signs'...But, I do think our names are deeply meaningful to our conscious and subconscious.  We are known to the world initially through our names.  Usually, before you know much about a person, you do know their name (or what they prefer to be called.)

As a person whose name is occasionally shortened, I've noticed that I react (inwardly, usually) when I'm called Val versus Valerie.  While my siblings occasionally call me Val, I have never introduced myself as Val, partly because I don't think I've ever identified with those three letters as my name...as "who I am."  I don't notice it with my siblings (perhaps because of a deep level of trust and long history that they Know Me), but I am often surprised when people, meeting me for the first time, refer to me as Val (even if I introduce myself as Valerie.)  I know that many times, it is because they may know someone else who shortens their name to Val, but I find that to be an unfair assumption.

On the surface, I realise this seems like a trivial topic.  But our names are these public things that we carry around with us wherever we go, and, as far as I know, everyone has names and so the conversation affects all of us!

I'm also aware that how we pronounce names is just as imperative as how many letters of a name we say. From the rarer names to the everyday names, there are so many different pronunciations, and yet to assume one way or another until you get it from the source, is again, unfair.  And should I mention spelling?  As much as "Val" gets my goat, so does "Valarie."  Gross.  That is not me.  (Though I'm sure it fits someone else very nicely.)

The moral of this mini-sermon:  It says a lot about how well you know someone when you address them with their preferred name, and pronounced correctly.  It says that you have let them define for you who they are or who they want to be, rather than needing your projection of them to define them. :)

Regardless of who we are, and what others call us, I am reminded of God's promise to the Israelites in Isaiah 49, "...look, I've written your names on the palms of my hands..."  We are known by God.  That is something to treasure.