Ebbs and Flows 

Then I got up and walked in the field, giving great glory and praise to the Most High for the wonders that he does from time to time, and because he governs the times and whatever things come to pass in their seasons. –2 Esdras 13:57-58

Kansas is in the middle of what has historically been considered Tornado Alley. Tornado watches and warnings are as much a fixture of spring here as are Robin songs and Red buds. Like most self-respecting, life-long Kansans, when the sirens wail, I am more likely to be on the porch looking for the tornado than in the basement hiding from it. The past couple of years, however, Tornado Alley seems to have significantly shifted, much to the chagrin of our mostly basement-less neighbors to the south and east.

Last winter, Kansans learned the meaning of a Polar Vortex, where bitterly cold Arctic air pushes farther south than normal and stays for an extended visit. This unwanted imposer arrived again this year, much earlier than last. In the Midwest, we normally take the ebbs and flows of the weather in stride. We say the ever-changing seasons keep us healthy (cough, cough, sneeze, sneeze). We accept the alternating cold and hot temperatures like coastal dwellers accept low and high tides. We observe the patterns of Nature’s rhythms – some as predictable as the moon’s phases, others seemingly random – and we endure. As I observe a weather map showing the expected push of the current Polar Vortex, I wonder how far south I would have to travel to get out of the bitterly cold air. Everything around us is constantly changing, but most humans insist on staying put and being victimized by the conditions around them. Some mobile beings react to the natural ebbs and flows of nature by fleeing, while others go into hibernation. Not us, however – we stand, firmly planted, trying desperately and vainly not to change.

Perhaps nature’s ebbs and flows mirror our spiritual and emotional lives. Different environmental forces come and go, washing over us like the current of a river, before rushing on to points downstream. Boulders residing in midstream wear down over time, and so do we. Like the sedentary beings we are, we stand firm in the stream, fighting the natural tendency to float with it.

I am not suggesting we should roam like wandering nomads at the first sign of difficulty. Perhaps we could become a little less rigid, however, a little less proud, and a little more flexible. Perhaps instead of standing stubbornly in the muck of our own biases, we could move a little to the left or to the right in order to ebb and flow with the times, as well as to restore a sense of harmony – harmony within our being, with our environment, and harmony with each other. In life, as in music, harmony is beautiful when done well.

Come home to church this Sunday. Let the ebbs and flows of the Spirit wash over you.