It even says it on the calendar, March 20, "First Day of Spring."
But to hear people talk recently, it wasn't a given this year. Spring was going to be "late" or winter was going to last forever. Oh, how brief are our memories, all of us shortsighted, forgetful, doubting sons of Adam and daughters of Eve. Make us wait two weeks, delay our desires longer than we'd planned, and we reek of unbelief. We cannot seem to keep our grip on this simple truth.
Spring always comes. Always. We don't need to doubt or fret or worry. We cannot hurry it, nor can we delay it. And though we cannot see, this is a fact.
Spring always comes.
So, why this obsessing?
Is it about control - we want it to come now because we. want. it. to. come. now?
Is it about personal comfort - we are tired of shoveling and shivering?
Is it about being discontent - we've just had enough of this other and now we want something different? (And how soon will we complain about raking or mowing or....sweating?!)
Is it about....you fill in the blank with your speculation.
One thing I know, if I have this much difficulty resting in the certainty that winter will sooner or later turn into spring, I'm in deep trouble in matters less clear than what is printed on the calendar, when I am waiting for God to show up and He does not. (Or so it seems to me.) And it is all about control. And/or personal discomfort. And /or discontent. I talk about His faithfulness, I read about His faithfulness, I sing about His faithfulness, but make me wait two weeks, delay my desires longer than I'd hoped or planned, and I reek of unbelief.
And yet, in the wait for spring, seekers can glimpse "soft signs," subtle reminders that change is in the air, markers of quiet transformation happening under the radar even when snow flakes dance and taunt, even when temperatures plunge to brrr after bright-blue-sky-sunny afternoons. The promise whispers of spring wait for listening ears, for attentive eyes...
And it's not really about spring.
It's about hope.
It's about remembering to watch for God at work around me,
new life in apparent wasteland,
swelling promise in barren twigs,
messages in the messy, muddy places of my life,
hope pushing through the remains of disaster,
God is at work, ever faithful, ever present.
Here too, seekers can glimpse "soft signs," subtle reminders that change is in the air, markers of quiet transformation happening under the radar. The promise whispers wait for listening ears, for attentive eyes...
I stand with the father in Mark 9:24, calling out to God, "I believe. Help my unbelief." Help me to see, to hear, to be attentive to Your work in my wintry world. And when I'm waiting two weeks or two years or two decades, and I don't know what You are doing, help me to trust that still You are doing something. Help me to watch for soft signs, to wait with quiet expectation and joyful hope. Winter always turns to spring. God is faithful.