“Finally, brethren, whatsoever things are true, whatsoever things are honest, whatsoever things are just, whatsoever things are pure, whatsoever things are lovely, whatsoever things are of good report; if there be any virtue, and if there be any praise, think on these things.”(Philippians 4:8) (KJV2000)
On the first of March I woke up to the sound of buckets of rain being poured over my house and couldn’t go back to sleep. By five thirty in the morning there was a seemingly endless parade of thoughts, to do lists and concerns marching through my mind. I was also listening, on edge, to the rain and the thunder because we were under a tornado watch from late evening until seven a.m. I was running scenarios on how best to get Ethan safely to the basement if the siren went off and what I should or shouldn’t grab on the way. I had left the carseat in the car when I came home sick from work on the 27th of February, so I couldn’t very well grab that. (Who has tornado watches in February? Honestly? It doesn’t seem fair.) I was also listening for the sound of an approaching train. I have heard that tornados sound like trains. I was also running scenarios of keeping Ethan safe if there was no siren. I was also thinking about ways to rebuild the house if it got flattened and wondering if there is any way to protect a physical possession–like an old family photo album from wind, flood and fire.
All this was marching through my mind at 5:30 a.m. (And I wonder why I am tired.) In a few minutes the morning rush would begin again. The child asleep on my chest would wake up and need to be snuggled, dressed and fed. All my morning tasks awaited. I knew that I was weak and I hoped I could complete them as quickly as I normally did. I decided I should take soup for lunch. (After so recently battling a violent stomach virus, I didn’t think my stomach was ready for broccoli.)
The day passed and on the way home from work I took the back roads. It was a gray day, very damp and blustery. I was feeling rather dismal as the wind grew chillier and occasionally smattered my windshield with tiny almost raindrops. My world was bleak. And then on my right appeared acres and acres of beautiful emerald green! It was so beautiful that I actually made an involuntary exclamation. Oh! It was so unexpected I felt like something had physically jarred me.
Thank God for winter wheat! Where I live, it is the first big green of Spring. In March the little greens will appear, tiny sprouts of daffodils or tulips, but the grass is pale and the deciduous trees are bare. The beginning of Spring around here usually looks like gray skies and mud until about April. But if I can find a field of winter wheat–my winter weary soul can find new hope. Winter wheat reminds me Spring is waiting in the wings, the green is spreading, it cannot be delayed forever!
What a difference it makes when we shift our focus from worry to hope. The exact same circumstances can take on a whole new meaning in a moment. My whole experience of March is completely reflective of what I choose to focus on. Around me the sky is gray, the ground is muddy, the wind is cold and mean. Also, around me, the trees are budding, the wheat is growing, and the smell of Spring is swirling. Where will I place my attention?
Winter is not over but Spring is coming will not be stopped, no matter how many more times it snows. When I focus on the coming of Spring, I feel uplifted and hopeful. Lilacs and roses are coming, along with green grass and softer air. When I focus on what is left of Winter I feel tired, like I am carrying a heavy and cumbersome chain. Winter of itself is not bad, but it is dark and cold and I am weary of it. Both things are true in this moment. The choice is mine.
Paul reminds us that we need to focus on the good stuff. Truth. Honesty. Justice. Purity. Loveliness. Good reports. Virtuous things. Praiseworthy things. He is laying out instructions for the Philippian Christians on how to live in this world and he polishes off his recomendations with an admonition on what to think about.
What we think about is important. What we think about, what we meditate on, determines our mood, our attitude and our actions. A person might think, “We cannot ignore all the bad stuff in the world and only “think on these things”! Our outrage and negative emotions are what move us to action to make things better!” There is some truth in that. But when I focus on the good and lovely things I feel more positive, more hopeful, more energized. When I focus on the horrible things and the sad things I start feeling hopeless, helpless and overwhelmed. In which state I am more likely to be kind to others, to lift up those around me or to take any positive action?
There are so many things going on around us, so many voices screaming for attention. There is so much information, most of it of questionable quality, constantly before us. Where shall we look? The world is filled with war, strife, division, hatred, despair, violence, and loss. The world is also filled with beauty, hope, wonder, kindness, love, generosity and grace. We will see it all but we must “think on these things.” That does not mean we close our eyes to the ugly things because we must see them before we can change them. We can work toward a better world–we must help others and we must stand up for what is right–but to be able to do that we must think on “these things”. When we think too much on the dark side, when we meditate on the horrible, unimaginable and seemingly hopeless, it fixes nothing and even does damage. We can easily become immobilized in the face of what seems like overwhelming evil.
So, I am choosing to think about all the wonderful things about March. I love the crazy, wild winds. I love the new green around me. I even love watching the battle between Spring and Winter. (New life will win eventually, of course, but when?) I choose to lift my eyes from the mud on my boots and look across the fields of wheat. When my eyes are focused on the beautiful, makes it easier to keep marching.