It is not spring. Not here. Yet there is the promise of spring. The snows have melted. One of the ponds behind our home is ice free. The sun is warm upon my face. It stays longer than before, setting later each day. Others see it too. Parents bring their children to the parks to swing and slide and play. Dog owners walk their pets or run with them. Gardners have begun to cut back the dead native grasses and trim trees. Some of these trees have begun to bud.
Yet we are fully aware the temperatures will likely plummet once again and it is highly likely there will be more snow. However, the harshest part of winter is over. We look toward the knowledge that what appears to be dead is living and breathing. Seasons come and seasons go. Winter will give way to Spring and Spring to Summer. Summer will fall into Autumn and Autumn will slip once again into Winter. It is the way of things-this stepping aside for the given season.
I find life is often a picture of this marvelous creation. Even in the harshest moments-when things may be the coldest and we fear all hope is dead and lost-if we believe, and sometimes even when we can’t believe, life teems below the surface awaiting the rays of the sun. There may be moments when the promise of renewal presents itself before us only to be covered by another bout of snow and ice, coldness covering what we thought was a glow of possibility. But hold onto the promise, the assurance that even though you may not see it in the moment, regeneration, renewal, and restoration are conceivable.
Perhaps the life which springs forth will look different than you imagined or expected, but in this case we press forward. We lean toward the mark before us. We embrace what has been given to us. We lay hold of gratefulness. No matter the season.
“Rejoice always; pray without ceasing; in everything give thanks, for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus.”
1 Thessalonians 5:16-18 LSB
It is difficult to feel dead when we are alive with thanksgiving.
The Inkwell Collections 