the language of spring

A few weeks ago the sun was shining bright. Green grass peeked out from a midst the leftover chucks of icy snow. Mud puddles littered the driveway and the wood stove sat cold and unneeded.

Then in one blustery stormy night spring was wiped out.

Snow piled high, high. Puddles hardened into ice that crunched under my feet. The barn, where windows had been opened and the cattle grew restless for fresh grass, froze solid and hard. We lugged buckets of hot water to pour over the water bowls, wild attempts at breaking through the frozen pipes to allow the animals to drink their fill.

As the weeks passed and the cold filtered into the house and into my toes, it began to feel like spring would never return.

Have you ever felt that way? Like winter has settled strong and hard in your soul and spring is forever out of reach?

And what happens when you get a glimpse of sunlight? Of warmth and sweetness and bright days? And then, as suddenly as the glimpse appears, it is gone. Wiped away and lost in snow storms and frozen dreams.

I’ve been feeling that way. Like the weather is just a reflection of my soul condition and I live in this terrible fear that maybe, maybe spring will never come. Maybe this winter will last forever. 

I went for a walk today. The littlest munchkin toddling alongside as we journeyed down the highway to deliver a book to the neighbor. We bundled up tight in snowpants and hats and mittens. He pulled on his little froggie boots, his feet wrapped in wool socks. We dressed to fight the cold and walked right through that bitter wind and the piles of grey clouds that blocked the sun.

It wasn’t until we were walking home that I was hushed still. I swooped him into my arms and whispered, “Listen!” There where the creek sat frozen and snow clung to the banks, I could hear it. Underneath the ice the stream was rushing madly. Bubbling and gurgling over rocks and around icy clumps. I couldn’t see it, but I could hear it clear and strong.

The baby giggled in my arms and I sighed.

It was Narnia and the trees were whispering, “Aslan is on the move.“

Winter can’t keep spring away forever.

Are you feeling like winter has taken residence in your soul? There is a glorious promise and hope for even today. Winter will pass.