The woods outside my house are beginning to come alive. Bright green shoots are coming up all over. My husband calls it undergrowth and sighs. I call it hope and grin.
It feels like it’s been a long winter here. There’s been cold and dark and death at what has seemed like every turn. My soul is tired and weary. In my heart I know that God has been with us in this season, just as He is in every season. But sometimes I need to see signs of the hope only He can give.
My dad told me once that this time of year is the wettest the forest floor will be all year. The limbs of the tallest trees are still bare and a few weeks from even budding. The bushes and things that live on the floor of the forest are getting the rain and snowmelt all to themselves right now. And they are soaking it in, because soon the sun will rise earlier and stay up longer and the rains will not come as often. It is this life giving water that will get them through the long months ahead.
My spiritual life feels like that sometimes. There are seasons in which I hear God loud and clear. I feel like our chocolate lab Chipper as he laps up fresh ice cold water on a hot July day. I cannot get enough. My soul sings, I’m bursting with joy and overflowing with patience.
Then come the dry spells.
Where the days are short and night comes early. Where life’s busyness pushes me too far, too hard. Where children are loud and I forget that the years are passing quickly because the days just seem so long. Times where I can barely catch my breath.
Those are the times when I need to see the green at the bottom of the woods. The literal “greening up the mountains.” It’s then that I need the hope that only He can give.
Sometimes hope comes in the changing of the seasons, flowers blooming or leaves changing. Sometimes it falls softly like a late spring snow. Sometimes it’s an encouraging word from a friend or a family member. Or the reminder of a stone being rolled away and a tomb being found empty.
It’s then that my strength is renewed.
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