"My Hour Has Not Yet Come" - John 2

“My Hour Has Not Yet Come” 
John 2:4b

A date on the calendar. Something coming and yet still off in the distance. For some, that distant marker is a glorious occasion. One that is greatly anticipated holding great joy and excitement. 

For a little child, Christmas holds this anticipation. This date stamped on the calendar with games that count down each day. 25 pieces of chocolate. 25 little cardboard windows opened until the window that gives view to Jesus. In our home, it is a a quilted calendar with a Christmas tree and small velcro pieces waiting in dated pockets. Each day, one velcro piece comes out of its little pocket and is eagerly placed on the quilted Christmas tree marking one day closer. One day closer….

And yet, there are those far off dates that are wrapped not with what looks like beauty and excitement, but a sense of dread and fearful unknown. I’ve had some of those days, maybe you have too. The date of my son’s scheduled c-section. August 14, 2002. The date when my fragile little boy diagnosed in utero with a fatal genetic condition that doctors said would take his life would enter this world. A date that should hold joy, but held the fragrance of death. A calendar that I didn’t want to mark off. Wishing time would stand still. And the date when my cancer would take my womanly parts. July 15, 2010. A double mastectomy, reconstruction and the start of the fight of my life against a disease waging war inside of me. As much as I wanted it all behind me, I didn’t want to face the pain of what those hours would hold. I wanted to be insulated from the pain. I wanted to escape it. Slip through the back door. 

Each date on the calendar, whether one holding great joy or one holding great sorrow, is purposeful to God. It is an opportunity. An opportunity for God to work. An opportunity to point others to Jesus. 

Jesus knew what it felt like to have a date on the calendar. He stepped into time fully God, wrapped in human flesh and the days on the calendar began to be peeled away as His hour approached. There was much to be accomplished before the final hour came. An hour that would bring agony, rejection, immense pain, loneliness and then death. He knew in his infinite knowledge what that day would look like. No secrets. No unknowns. He knew it from the foundation of the world. He knew that day was on the horizon. The day, the hour when He would take the sin of the world, my sin, your sin, upon His shoulders on the cross and win victory over sin.  A victory that would only come through death so we could have life. 

And yet, as much pain and agony that encompassed that day, it was a day of great joy for Jesus. “…who for the joy that was set before Him, endured the cross… Hebrews 12:2b.” So hard to wrap our human minds around. We want to escape pain and Jesus submitted to it with joy. Joy because salvation would be accomplished that day for anyone who believes in Jesus. Joy because through the cross we could spend eternity with God. The worst day and the best day wrapped together. A day Jesus anticipated knowing it would be filled with great pain and yet great joy. It would be a day of purpose. Godly purpose. 

In the waiting, Jesus kept His focus and purpose in mind. Until the hour came, Jesus would give signs of His identity. He would give reasons to prove His identity causing many to believe that He is the Messiah. He would heal, restore, teach and love. He would make every minute useful for God’s glory.

This day, just days after His baptism in the Jordan and His entrance into public ministry, He is invited to a wedding in Cana of Galilee. The very thing He created in joining together a man and a woman. The very example He set forth for us to understand His relationship to us. There He stood as a guest with his mother, Mary and His disciples. His mother, Mary, knowing that her son was the Son of God, that He would be great, and would be called the Son of the Highest. That He would be given the throne of His father David and reign eternally, waited for over 30 years to see Him claim what was promised. She waited for Him to show the world who He was. 

Having known of His baptism and seeing these men following Him, was the time now? Was the date on the calendar coming more clearly into view? 

“The hour had not yet come” (John 2:4). 

No one, including Mary knew of what was to come. They didn’t fully understand. But Jesus did. Seven times in John Jesus will tell people that "his hour has not come." Then when he prays to His Father in the Garden of Gethsemane before His arrest and crucifixtion, He will say, "Father, the hour has come. Glorify Your Son that Your Son also may glorify You" John 17:1b. His final hours were not yet, but the hours in between gave way to opportunity. And seeing an opportunity before Him, He seized it. The hour had come for His glory to be made known to a select few. 

Jesus never deterred from His purpose and never lost an opportunity.  

Mary tells Jesus there is a problem. The wine had run out. A travesty in a Jewish wedding feast. Wine, in Jewish culture, was also a symbol of joy. The wine wasn’t just depleted, so was the joy of Israel. Jesus gave commands to the servants as Mary and the disciples looked on and had the servants fill six waterpots to the brim with water. Then without a word, He turned the water into the most delicious wine for all the guests to enjoy. He gave joy. Joy in its fullest measure. 

There wasn’t fanfare or hype. A large crowd didn’t gather around. Mary, the disciples and some servants gathered around and Jesus showed them a sign of who He was. He is the One who can without a word make water into wine. He is the One who will take the old cleansing waterpots fill them with life giving water and make something new. From those waterpots many would draw out, receive and be filled.  

The hour of the cross had not yet come. But in the hours leading up to it, hours that would cover almost three and a half years, Jesus would take those hours as opportunity, never losing sight of what would be accomplished in “the final hour;” an hour of dread, but great joy. His purpose? That many would believe in Him. 

What hours has the Lord given you as opportunity to display His glory to others? Are you using them or are you looking for the back door, a way to slip out and escape what may be difficult or uncomfortable? The hours are short before our Lord returns again. May we all make the most of the time He has given us knowing that many need to know of Jesus so that they, too, may believe in Him. 

Can’t wait to dig into John 2 with you this Thursday. 

Much love,

Stacy

A Seed

This spring my daughter, Faith, turned nine. In her little girl imagination and romanticized ideals, she shared her birthday desires; she wanted to plant a garden. She wanted her own tools, her own gardening bag, a watering can, and some seeds. Oh and a sunhat. I mean you can't garden without a wide brimmed sunhat. She's into the details. What can I say? I was a little skeptical, at first. I mean not really what a nine year old usually asks for. So I pressed in. Her resolve was steadfast. Maybe because she saw her grandmother, who lives with us, passionately plant, tend, water and gaze at her garden beds. Gaze at the beauty that came from those seeds. The diligence she saw in the tending. I never really got to the bottom of the why's but her request didn't change. 

As a parent often does when the request is heartfelt and innocent, we granted her request. She opened her presents that late spring day with pure delight and joy. A gardening trowel, a shovel, a little carrying bag, gardening gloves, a bright blue watering can, of course the straw hat and little packets of Zinnia seeds displaying pictures of bright colors, vibrant blooms and masses of flowers on the outside of the package.  With eagerness and anticipation, a few weeks later, we set to work. She picked the spot. She watched the sun each day to see where it shone the brightest and the longest. She walked the yard examining the patches of ground and then choose the area around the mailbox. The expectant blooms something others could cherish, as well. A beauty that would greet whoever drove by. We set to work. As the seeds fell into the soft, toiled earth they were brown, tiny and hard resembling no life or vibrancy. The breeze that day effortlessly trying to carry them away. Into the ground they went covered by moist dirt and a sprinkling of water. 

We waited. And waited. And waited. Nothing. No sign of life. Week after week. Day after day she would check. Then one day mid-summer what appeared to be soft, tiny, very tender green sprouts appeared. Not many, but a sign of life. Oh the joy she felt that day as she saw a glimpse of what was to come. It should be soon now as visions of fields flooded with flowers filled her head. 

A few days later, that joy quickly turned to sadness. One of her older brothers is our lawn boy. With mowing comes weed whacking. You probably can guess where this story is going. That's right. The tender shoots peaking around the mailbox looked almost like weeds in his 16 year old mind. He was set on a mission weed whacker in hand moving his way around the yard. You guessed it, those tender shoots were in fact whacked. Lopped off and cut down. 

Some tears later, an apology from her brother and gentle words of encouragement and her heart was mended. I tried as I could to speak hope into her heart. That even though those shoots were weed whacked something still could come. They would regrow. The seed was there. I think her resolve and vision was a little marred but she kept to watering and waiting. 

A few weeks ago, we saw our first bud. The shoots had reappeared. The stem grew sturdy and the most beautiful yellow blossom appeared. I can't begin to tell you the glee and delight that came from my little girl the moment she laid eyes on that bloom. 

It has been many months since those seeds were gently placed in the soil. The packet said the waiting period would be 30-60 days. It has been more like 90-120. But this is what I captured this morning. 

It isn't a bountiful harvest or a field of zinnias, but it the product of a love, a heartfelt desire, tender care, waiting and a hope that never died even in the whacking and the sight of barrenness.  It is faith. It is beautiful, steadfast faith evidences a harvest after the seed is planted. 

This very website that you come to today is very much my (our) patch of Zinnia's. It is evidence of the faith seed planted by God many years ago into my heart and that of Brenda Harris. You can read our individual stories and our collective ministry story in the navigation bar on top. God saw what was to come. What He would bring forth. He asked us to be faithful in the planting, the tending and the waiting. It hasn't always been easy. Over the years, the weed whacker has come in our direction and to the work of the ministry. At times, it seemed there might not be a going forward and yet God, in His mercy, would give a glimpse of a tender shoot peaking through. 

"being confident of this very thing, that He who has begun a good work in you will complete it until the day of Jesus Christ." Philippians 1:6

This website isn't the completed work but it is evidence of the work deep in the soil of my and Brenda's heart. It was a seed of desire and faith to bring the gospel to women. Women needing Jesus. Women needing God's truth in a world of lies and deceit. Women needing hope. Women needing healing. Women needing fellowship, prayer and support. Women needing to know they are loved and cared for first by the God of the universe and secondly by others. Women desperate for answers to the why's of this crazy world and time we live in. Women needing a sure footing and encouragement for each day. Jesus is the answer to the cries of our hearts. As the Lord brought forth the Delighting in the Lord ministry step by step, bit by bit, He has now brought forth this place for us to declare His name and share of His great love for each of you. 

Welcome. We are so glad to meet you. May this be a resting spot for you along life's hard steps, along life's joyful leaps, along life's mundane. May you find encouragement, hope and God's love for each step. 

I don't know what season you find yourself today? I don't know what seed has been planted deep in your heart and you're in the waiting. You are in the tending. You are in the whacking. You are in the harvest. Whatever season it is, God is working behind the scenes deep in that soil and through that seed. Don't give up. Keep pressing into the greatest Tender of that seed, Jesus. Keep looking for the sun. Keep watering. And don't stop looking for the harvest. It's coming, my friend. It's coming. He alone is faithful. 

Much love to you,

Stacy (and Brenda!)