The wind is mighty where I live. My neighbor has a weather station attached to his roof and loves to monitor what goes on around here. Quite a bit, apparently—the highest clocked winds thus far have been 57 miles per hour. We have winds that roar up here—I thought how poetical to say “roar” until I lived up here and yes, they roar.
In the morning, it is quiet and yet I know what I heard the night before, in the darkness. We have learned to situate our lawn chairs so they won’t blow away. We have two cinder blocks sitting on our barbeque, and a “wall” of them around it, to prevent it from being thrown over—which it has happened many times. The only thing that saved my neighbors from getting a "free" barbeque was the gas line that tethers it to the house. I have tried to retrieve lawn chairs and rocking chairs in the middle of a windstorm, and I felt rather powerless against such a force. The wind blows, pure and simple, and nothing will get in its way.
The clouds in the mountains also demonstrate the mightiness of the winds in the upper atmosphere. The clouds move very quickly up there and seem to writhe and twist like gigantic snakes in the sky as the winds move them. Nothing in the sky is static—the winds change the form of the clouds, their location and their marching pace as the day progresses. At night this demonstration is veiled, but I can hear the winds in their performance.
It is no surprise that Jesus compares the Holy Spirit to wind. Winds can be gentle breezes: His quiet voice whispering to our hearts. Or He can be a mighty rushing wind: His conviction of sin calling to our hearts and His urgent call, inviting us to salvation.
The Spirit is mighty: He moves hearts and reshapes them in the image of the Son. He will not allow us to remain static. He desires us to move across the sky of God’s kingdom and make a difference in our world.
Nothing will get in the Spirit’s way. A person cannot stand down a hurricane, and the Spirit will not be quenched in the world, despite all the evil the world can muster.
Even when we cannot “see” the Spirit, we can still see evidence He is still active in the world. Even if it’s not windy in the mountains, the clouds are proclaiming the wind up high—so too, is the work of the Spirit. His presence means hope in the world—hope that lives can be changed, hearts can be healed, and that evil will be overcome. Isaiah reminds us that God will “provide for those who grieve in Zion--to bestow on them a crown of beauty instead of ashes, the oil of gladness instead of mourning, and a garment of praise instead of a spirit of despair. They will be called oaks of righteousness, a planting of the LORD for the display of His splendor.” (61:13)
Come, Holy Spirit…we need You more than ever.
We pray for those who grieve. We pray for those who suffer loss and mourn with those whose hearts are shattered. Come, Spirit, whisper to our hearts in our despair and draw us to the One Who is Hope: Jesus Christ. In the Name of the Father Who also lost a Son, amen.