It was 2014 and winter drug on like a leftover pot of company stew. Except that the winter wasn’t better with each subsequent serving. Snow after snow, storm after storm, and the coldest temperatures we had endured in a couple of decades.
Most years spring weather precedes the date on the calendar. No so in the year twenty fourteen.
The first day of spring came with hope and expectation and a batch of snow and ice followed a few days later. And again a few days after that. And the cold stayed. We would have a tiny tease of a beautiful day. Then the reality of the unending winter returned.
Then one day the air smelled differently. Not much, but significantly. It did not hold the hint of winter, but instead of promise, of warmth, or new life. It was not evident yet, but we all hoped in unison.
The trees budded slowly. The red buds hid their color. The apple blossoms didn’t, even they could not be sure. But the buds began to appear, one by one.
As I write this, I still put my fleece jacket on in the morning and haven’t scheduled our first picnic yet, but I am on the lookout for color.
Some things in life are slow to leave like this winter: challenges, hardships, strain, writer’s block. And some things are slow to come like this spring: release, breakthrough, answers to prayer, ideas and story lines.
But eventually the seasons of hardship melt away and the season of peacefulness dawns. Even if it happens slowly, it will happen. Even if it is hard to believe, it happens.
“He changes times and seasons …” Daniel 2:21