Rings

Photo Credit: Ben Leshchinsky  Originally appeared here

In early June, there was a day of heavy rain in the NYC area. On my walk to work that morning from the subway, I got quite soaked from the waist down due to the downpour that opened up and instantaneously started flooding the sidewalk and casting raindrops at a 45 degree angle. It was just going to be one of those days, it seemed. At the end of the workday during my commute back home, a double rainbow appeared over Manhattan. I saw tweets and got text messages from people seeing it on the news, but I did not see it myself. That fact did not surprise me. It is harder to find obvious beauty here in this city, both literally and figuratively. If I had seen the rainbow directly, its blatant beauty would have caught me off guard as I would not expect such in a place like this.

John and I are coming up on a year of living here, on two years of being married. And in the last month or two, there have been some hard moments of the realities of living in this place. I have felt disillusioned, stretched beyond what I would like. We are no longer new in this city, yet we are still beginning—seemingly stuck residing in a tension. It was hard to see, to have a vision for this place that would involve me in it. And like being under the presence of a rainbow that was ever present, I could not see it myself.

To be granted vision, to be granted hope, to be granted relief in what feels to be longsuffering—these are the things I pleaded to the Lord for, as I was in need. It came in great measure over this last week. The written and spoken words of those who have gone before us in ministry and life here in Brooklyn again reminded me and brought new light to the privilege I have to be a part of it, even as it is hard. The gatherings of two or more—like it has occurred many times over this year—yet in these times I could see through the Lord’s eyes, not the situational blindness of my own. These people are not strangers any more. The walking and commuting together, sharing in pocket conversations that hold the rhythm of the train doors and passer-bys. The weekend trip to visit my brother that provided a relief and respite from the busy pace of the city, only to have the city welcome me back when I arrived. The confession of a mistake made to coworkers and receiving their grace, and in that honesty, a deeper trust and relationship forged. Laughter shared through email conversations with my boss about dragons drawn with chicken feet. The gathering of people in living rooms and large rooms to eat, pray, and celebrate. The speaking of plans for a new church community in this becoming beloved place and the people within it now and those yet to be.

And yes, I do know them. And they do know me. It reminds me ever so of how the Lord knows me, that He knows the deepest desires of my heart and how I connect with Him. Through quiet places and solitude, yes, but more so now, I find it through the rhythm of living life with these people, all in its messiness, vulnerability, laughter, and shared experiences, whether planned or spontaneous.

…

I think about a ring. I think about a covenant. I think about two years gone by and what has been established within it. I often pause in thankfulness to not be doing this alone, but with one the Lord has given me to that walks alongside me from the dawn of the morning to the darkest moments of the night, day in and day out. We draw strength from one another in those moments where one is weak and the other strong. In those moments where we both are weary tired and flesh fail, we reside together and run to Him together in it.

I know the Lord grants strength for whatever He puts before us in whatever stage of life we are in, but I am ever grateful that part of the strength He has granted has come in the form of my beloved as we do this side by side.

And as I think about this ring, I think about the importance of ministering within it. John is the one to whom I must lay my life down for on this earth first and foremost. He needs to be my chief concern and the one I seek to serve and lift up. If I minister within this ring and covenant well, all those who fall outside and around it will be the better for it. The fullness within will permeate the boundaries and radiate outward, but emptiness will allow porous holes and things/people within it that should never reside there.

As I think about this earthly covenant, I am again reminded of the heavenly parallel, the covenant with the Lord. I think about the rainbow that I did not see, but there was testimony and evidence that it existed. It is an everlasting reminder of the covenant God established between himself and all flesh on the earth (Genesis 9). It points to the fullness that we have not been forgotten but always remembered through all time, to the point that He sent his son thousands of years later to die in our place so we would never again perish on this earth or eternity.

I once again remember the love of the Lord and how He knows me best. How He desires more for me that He chooses to show me his love tangibly not through a reminder I am familiar with (a physical rainbow), but rather a more recent covenant of marriage. Even further, a more recent encircling of community, a diverse ring of those I may not have handpicked but God has chosen to be around me. In a year’s time, I am beginning to see the beauty of the completion even in a beginning. The creation of a circle or ring always leads to and is intended for fullness. A rainbow too, is a complete circle rather than a half, but only being at a perspective height mirroring the Lord’s do we see that. That is a humbling fact not lost on me.

Though there has been great comfort and encouragement provided in what the Lord has allowed me to see within these various rings not a rainbow over the last couple weeks, I will still carry the reminder of the rainbow covenant within. The Lord’s faithfulness may not always be seen fully as we only see from our horizon points, but its existence is full and complete in every way.