Resilient hope

I often find myself drawn to images of resilience, especially in nature. I’m amazed by plant life – even trees – that grow out of sheer rock. In my own backyard, I marvel at the wild sunflowers that somehow seem to tolerate heat and drought and, in the midst of it all, effortlessly provide a feast for goldfinches and chickadees. And I confess, I grumble at the dandelions as I work to mitigate their proliferation: How is it that they can survive almost anything? 

These are questions about resilience, about surviving and growing in and through harsh conditions, through long seasons of challenge and change. 

Traveling through such seasons both requires and cultivates resilience. The word resilience literally means “to jump or leap back.” In this sense, it is the ability to spring back like a stretched rubber band into our original shape after we have been stretched or stressed. (Patrick Fleming, “Springing Back,” Weavings, 2013) 

And it’s more than that. Resilience is not always about returning to how things were. It is often about adapting to difficult circumstances even as we remain firmly grounded in who we are. It is about more than survival. It’s about growing through challenge and change. It is about being transformed through pain into something more. It is about listening amid the struggle for a more vibrant expression of our soul to emerge. 

Patrick Fleming notes: While resilience seems to come more naturally to some of us, “it is a basic human, spiritual capacity in all of us” that can be learned and cultivated. 

How do we cultivate resilience? The prophet Jeremiah offers words of counsel to the people of Judah. 

He says: Plant yourselves next to streams of living water. Let your roots go deep and draw sustenance from it. That way, when the heat comes, your leaves will stay green. You can grow through it. 

Deep roots are where resilience and potential for growth through challenge and change begin. To grow such roots, we plant ourselves next to streams of living water and we drink deeply from it. 

We access this water through: 

• Silence. 
• Song. 
• Prayer. 
• Conversation. 
• Journaling or poetry. 
• Quieting ourselves and listening to the Spirit of God. 
• Engaging with holy texts. 
• Nature. 
• Studying scripture. 
• Worshipping together. 
• Singing together our lament and praise. 

 

And… 

• As we love and care for God’s creation. 
• As we are fully present to each other. 
• As we reach out beyond ourselves in care. 
• As we open ourselves to learning from each other. 
• Even, and most especially, when that learning is difficult. 

 

Paul cared so deeply about this that he offered the fervent prayer in Ephesians 3, a prayer for a faith community to whom he was writing, and a prayer for all of us who seek to follow Jesus and embody his ways on this earth. 

May Christ dwell in our hearts through faith, 

so that we, being rooted and grounded in love, 

will be able to grasp fully 

the breadth, length, height and depth of Christ’s love 

and, with all God’s holy ones, 

experience this love that surpasses all understanding, 

so that we may be filled with all the fullness of God. 

May this blessing live and grow in us as we, like trees, plant ourselves next to streams of living water.