Day Thirty Two - Nurturing hope

The wilderness and the dry land shall be glad;

the desert shall rejoice and blossom. (Isaiah 35:1)

There are some hymns you fall in love with at the first singing; ‘And art thou come with us to dwell’ was one of these for me. It takes that verse from Isaiah, and explores what it means for the wilderness to rejoice and be glad. The ‘thou’ of the first line is the promised Messiah. If you can, find the whole hymn and read it through. Read it aloud, and let the words fire your imagination.

The verse that stirs my heart is v.4:

Each heart’s deep instinct, unconfessed,

each lowly wish, each daring claim,

all, all that life hath long repressed

unfolds, undreading blight or blame.

Look at those ‘un’s in the first and last line. Unconfessed – what are the deep instincts, the wishes that seem too ‘lowly’ to confess, or the claims that are too daring for you to own up to? All that hope and dreaming unfolds – like the flower in the desert; undreading blight and blame, twin oppressors that that destroy hope.

Dorothy (Dora) Greenwell, who wrote these words was a radical thinker and activist. A friend of Josephine Butler, she is described as ‘this woman of unblinking sincerity and world-embracing heart’, who worked among ‘the really poor’. Her radical views were hard-won. She was born into a wealthy family which lost its fortune and she was cast adrift, unmarriageable in an age when women were entirely dependent on their husbands. She learnt by her own experience how society’s repressive rules, and the crushing poverty in which so many lived, destroyed the potential people had to blossom and grow.

She wrote that woman, bound by society’s laws, ‘should attain, in print, to the fearless, uncompromising sincerity she misses in real life.’ Oh yes! And she did. She spent her life as a writer and activist, working to bring life into the world’s wildernesses.

The wilderness seems to have increased its grip again during the pandemic. Employment, businesses, family life and social networks have withered. Countless people are facing parched and lonely lives, and a shattered economy is likely to blight the lives of the most marginalised members of society for generations to come. So we need women and men like Dora Greenwell, writers and activists, as well.

But people have also found new ways of flourishing: learning new skills, volunteering to help others, finding new joy in home, and garden. The photo on this page shows a mass of summer flowers. The rose In the foreground is called ‘Cherry’, and has been planted by a retired teacher at Bunyan Meeting, also called ‘Cherry’. She, like so many, has spent her career nurturing the abilities and aspirations of others. And there are many others, who bring life and hope.

Let us pray

Giver of life,

we offer you out hearts’ deep instincts,

our lowly wishes,

our daring claims

so that we may flourish under the warmth of your love.

Forgive us

when, instead of encouragement,

we respond with blight or blame,

and so crush people’s hopes

or tread down the gifts you have given.

Thank you for ministers, teachers, parents, friends,

who nurture the lives of others

through patient encouragement;

thank you for writers, workers and activists

who speak the truth to challenge repression

through fearless, unblinking sincerity.

So may the wilderness and the dry land shall glad;

and the desert rejoice and blossom. (Isaiah 35:1)

Amen

Janet Wootton