Winter, or Spring, or Winter...

The flip flopping between the warmth of spring and the chill of winter over the last few weeks, has really been so symbolic of grief to me. The confusion of everything covered in ice, lying dormant, dreary even and within days waking up to a refreshing and renewing rain, seeing green and the signs of life. How often do we feel like this in our grief? How often do we have days where we feel as if we are walking on thin ice just waiting for it to crack and submerge us in freezing winter waters, and wake up the next day feeling as if that ice has been melted allowing us submersion in the renewing warmth of a spring soak? And then, before we know it we are standing on the dawn of a winter day covered in frost, hoping and praying that Spring will come along and bring a promise of new life. Some days the wait between Winter and Spring can be brief, and then other days that wait can often seem endless and excruciating, but no matter how long the wait is or feels we hold on to the promise that "there is surely a future hope for you, and your hope will not be cut off (Proverbs 23:18)." Even on the most hopeless Winter days, when we feel numb from the cold, and disheartened by the grey around us, we can hold on to the hope of Spring, of the blooming of new life, of the sun emerging to melt the ice that has encased our hearts.