The geese of hope

November 16, 2020 · Print This Article

The geese are back. We hear them twice a year when they drop in at a nearby loch. In the autumn, we notice them as they flee the advancing winter of northern climes; in the spring they reappear as part of their return journey. This year, many of them arrived all at once. Half of the sky appeared to be full of honking geese, excited that they had reached their stop-off point.

Although they made an incredible noise, I was glad to see them despite their presence highlighting that winter is on its way. They were a reassuring message, that even though many things have stopped due to Covid-19, the coronavirus has no power over the seasons. The deeper rhythms of the Earth continue despite humanity’s current problems. Even though I’m watching autumn slowly slide away into winter, I feel a warm glow inside. A warmth created by the feeling of hope.

Hope is that sense that somehow good will one day win out, despite the feeling that night has descended upon us. Quite often we have no control over when and how this good will arrive, but hope is the whisper that things will change in the future.

I believe in the whisper. Indeed, as a follower of Jesus, I’ve come to the conclusion that I should listen out for the whisper. After all, he was a small town teacher and healer who had no influence amongst the rulers of his time. When he appeared to be growing in popularity, they put an end to it all by executing him.

Yet, his disciples wrote down that he reappeared; that he was resurrected from the grave. I must admit that I used to find that story ending just a bit too incredible to take in. But I couldn’t ignore that Jesus’ words and story still live on; he continues to make a difference today. His quiet voice continues to remind me, like the geese, that there are deeper rhythms on this planet that are worth looking out for. Hope is not an illusion.

Never give up, for good will one day win out.

I must confess that I haven’t always appreciated the geese as I do today. I wasn’t truly listening in the past; all I could hear was the loud honking of birds spotting a place to land. But I’ve learned that they carry good news on their wings. Whether they are warning of winter, or celebrating spring, I now acknowledge their arrival with gladness. They proclaim that hope is in town! Never give up, for good will one day win out.

Ian Woodley

Photo by Iga Palacz on Unsplash
Print Friendly, PDF & Email


Got something to say?