LIVING THROUGH A SPIRITUAL WINTER
Living in Colorado has prepared me for the flux and change of the four seasons. At times you crave one season more than another, and at other times, you find yourself longing for the one you are in - to end.
Currently, both literally and figuratively - I am in a winter season.
The wind chill is high and all the exposed parts of my heart are raw.
I'm desperately trying to find the warmth and any glimpse I can get, of Spring.
But, I'm only seeing Spring through the eyes of others. It's as if they are huddled around the hearth of a home - bundled and warm. While my frostbit nose is pressed fiercely against the window glass, it seems as if everyone is blooming and thriving.
The trees, they are bare.
The animals, they are hidden from sight.
Icicles hang dangerously low, threatening to shatter.
There is an eerie silence padded by snow.
Sometimes, this season is one in which I bask in. I find rest and peace in the silence of the winter. It's a time in which I can hibernate - feeding my soul.
Right now though? I want nothing more than the first chirping of a spring bird. I want to see the snow melting under the hot sun. I want to see fingertips of green stretching out from underneath the ground.
I want to see God unearth something in my life. In my heart.
One of my most favorite flowers is the tulip. They come in a beautiful array of colors and they simply make me happy. Ironically, tulips NEED the cold to bloom. They require it. Not just a bit of cold - but a prolonged period of a time for them to acquire the ability to sprout.
The ability to bloom in the Spring comes from the tenacity of holding out through the Winter.
I'm starting to think that this season I am in - it's necessary. My heart requires it. It's isolating at times - and I struggle with comparison and envy. Wouldn't it be easier to be a tropical plant? Or maybe, an evergreen?
Sometimes I'd just like to be the fake Christmas tree that never dies.
But everyone, and every plant, has their "spring" and only God is all the wiser.