Come Spring

Somehow, I see spring with my eyes but feel it more deeply in my soul. Spring always comes with a growing urgency of life and all that goes with it. Spring seems to be a season of change but for a certain stretch of my life, spring became a time of repeated grief. Back to back seasons of paid full goodbyes as friends moved, I moved, or as my father moved from life to life.

Right now the world has yet to burst with color and green but its there, its beginning down here in the south. A week or so and my neighbors’ home will be obscured by leaves, the highway noise will dull a bit as trees block the sounds, and the sound of lawnmowers will mark the weekends.

My body seems to harbor the stress of these springs past so that they come back to life each year. Spring comes and with it a kind of pressure and hurry I feel compelled to obey. It’s become familiar, that feeling. And, I know more where it comes from but I long for the spring when this feeling doesn’t come with it.

Even with the reminders of sorrow gone by, I love the spring with all its color and new life. In the midst of grieving, spring reminds me that all the grief that gets buried can grow into something beautiful in its time. All the heartbreak and worry and missing hold a kind of hope.

A hope that there is more to come from those places of sorrow…more life, more peace, more love.

Time doesn’t heal all wounds…but time for truth to soak in, time to gain perspective on what God is doing, time to marinate in God’s grace and mercy, time to reflect and give thanks and let anger recede. That kind of time is healing. That kind of time is what I am still buried in, the kind of time that heals wounds and dries tears.

I saw a woman with flowers in her grocery cart yesterday and I wondered if I should buy some too. I contemplated buying some wildflower seeds last week and now wish I had. I’m ready to see the bluebonnets along the side of the road and enjoy the promise God offers of new life through these displays.

I’m ready for spring…I think. Of all the season to wrestle through memories of grief, I’ll take spring.

Note: the photos included were taken in the Fort Worth Botanical Gardens.

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