More From Pat Banta Kreml

This morning, spring swept into central Florida. Brisk breezes danced with newborn leaves on the oak trees outside my back window. Six months ago, Hurricane Ian tore through the area and stripped the branches almost bare. But the leaves have come back strong, full, and vibrant green. New life will not be denied. Today, all of nature came out to celebrate.

God has placed regenerative power in nature. The devastation left by winter or natural disasters seems to declare that death has won. But each spring, God’s resurrecting power brings the dead back to life. It is the gospel preached by demonstration—a powerful reminder of Jesus’ death and resurrection and a hope for believers who have accepted Jesus’ sacrifice for their sins and await the advent of their new bodies.

Today, even before dawn broke, I could hear birds calling to each other, their distinct voices chatting, questioning, replying, and singing to the Lord with such joy that they put my human efforts to shame. As the morning sun rose, clear skies and gusting winds invited the sparrows, hawks, robins, finches, and even the annoying blue jays to take flight and join each other in swooping, diving, or soaring as high as their wings allowed. What must it feel like to leave all your cares and concerns on the ground and take to the sky—just to play?  

There is a time for work and a time for play. Sometimes I forget that. I had just spent two full years finishing my novel, a work of literary fiction, and another year seeking an agent to represent me. Playtime was out of the question. I was on a mission to present the Christian worldview with non-traditional methods like those used by writers like Flannery O’Connor and Bret Lott. The novel would be my “spring” to the secular market. But I couldn’t find an agent to represent me or a publisher who was interested. I asked the Lord, “Should I just self-publish?” I did not hear a definitive reply. I guess my spiritual ears were stopped up—again. I had diligently done the work, but now I couldn’t move forward and couldn’t go back. I didn’t know what to do.

As I watched the birds enjoy their unfettered flight, a burst of excitement surged through my chest. That’s exactly what my heavenly Father is inviting me to do. God is inviting me to humble myself, to acknowledge that the same God who calls me to work and responsibility also calls me to sabbaths for the body and soul. Like those joyful birds, I can cast all my cares on God because God cares for me (see 1 Pet. 5:7). God had actually spoken to me weeks earlier from Psalm 46:10, “Be still, and know that I am God” (NIV). But I hadn’t made the connection. Now I heard clearly, “Wait on me.” It doesn’t make sense in the natural, especially since I have worked on the novel off-and-on for over 15 years. But I set the novel aside and laid my concerns over it at Jesus’ feet. I will wait in peace for further instructions.

I experienced such liberating joy as I watched those birds frolic in God’s great big sky. They didn’t look a bit concerned about missing out on gathering food or shoring up nests or whatever daily tasks birds have to do. They were trusting God to provide. Their only job for the moment was to enjoy the beautiful spring day.

Sounds like a plan to me.