Summer is supposed to bring ease and relaxation. Isn’t it? At least that’s what we tell ourselves to scrape up the motivation to make it through the last lap of spring—the overwhelming month of May. Beachy scenes with palm trees and umbrella topped coconut drinks have begun to headline every store front. Lawn chairs and barbeque grills are now appearing in ads and on billboards. Surely, summer must bring reprieve. Right? So, we push with dogged determination through end-of-school events, Mother’ Day, Memorial Day, graduations, church programs, and so many other things, all in attempt to get there. But then summer does come. And lo and behold, it’s just as busy, sometimes busier! We have VBS, kids’ camps, youth camps, mission trips, other church events, and even a vacation to squeeze in there. Many have jobs. Many are wrangling kids at home and grandkids too. For women, especially those of us living this ministry life, to not feel overwhelmed is like a Mount Everest-sized attempt in futility.

Hope, however, is not lost. I want to encourage you, especially those who feel overwhelmed by summer or even by some other set of unwanted, trying circumstances. I want to share with you a small bit from a book I’ve been reading. The book is called What’s So Amazing About Grace? In it, Philip Yancey talks about the interesting historic event from 1980 when Mt. St. Helens unexpectedly erupts, affecting the entire region of Oregon and beyond. According to Yancey, a surprising anomaly took place after the eruption. The eruption itself was so intense, so fiery-hot, that it melted away everything, including significant layers of topsoil on the mountainside. Where lush forests and sweeping prairie-like grasslands once stood, now only bare rock coated in ash remained. Naturalists of the region wondered if anything could grow after such a catastrophe.

Much to their surprise, after a few months, the scientists returned to the mountain to discover unusual “patches of green” that had begun to form amidst the seeming ashy wasteland. Small, thick patches of beautiful wildflowers and grass resurfaced that had mysteriously forced their way up from the ash-covered ground. The naturalists, of course, were mystified. How could this be? How could hope flourish here? They had no explanation for this phenomenon. After some study, however, they began to realize that each patch of green carried the uncanny shape of a single, robust elk. During the eruption, an elk laid itself down in each spot and died. The elk’s body had formed a layer of protection as well as becoming the organic material that made possible the rise of this new life.

I’ve thought about this story many times since I read it, and each time, I couldn’t help but think what a striking metaphor this could be for those of us who are overwhelmed, whether we’re overwhelmed by summer or overwhelmed by something much more challenging. We all desperately need “patches of green.” We need hope. We need to see the possibility of renewal. Our souls need to believe blossoming can happen and that it can come in the form of much needed refreshment, peace, contentment, patience, courage, joy, and rest.

Ironically, if we let this story fully unfold, seeing “patches of green” in our own lives requires cultivating our spiritual eyes to see Jesus at work in the midst of our overwhelm. Like that robust elk, eyes for Jesus provide a kind of protection. We don’t just see the hard on its own. We realize Jesus sees it too. We aren’t alone. We aren’t on our own. And that’s a hope-filled way to move forward. Having eyes for Jesus also opens the door for grace and new life to grow. When we can remember His sacrificial choice to lay down His life for us, when His love and who He is (His present, accepting, comforting, reassuring, redeeming, restoring self) becomes the lens through which we see the overwhelm we feel, it forms the organic spiritual material we need for hope to rise.

It might seem strange to remind ministry wives and other women in ministry to cultivate eyes that see Jesus working in their everyday lives. But we’re not special. We’re all human. Our tendency is to forget, to be self-focused, to pull ourselves up by our own bootstraps, which can certainly exacerbate our sense of overwhelm. But inviting Him into each moment is the cure. Sensing the “with-ness” of His presence is where green strength is found. Knowing His green grace abounds is the pathway to hope. So, let’s ask Jesus today to show Himself to us, to give us a tangible touch of His presence, to allow us to receive His love afresh and see His hands working diligently on our behalf. He will answer our prayers. After all, He wants to give each of us “patches of green” in our lives even more than we want them. And He delights even more than we do when spiritual wildflowers grow.