Bright blue patches of sky play peek-a-boo from behind the billowing grey clouds. A cool gust goes right through my sweater and tosses my braid over a shoulder and I breathe deeply of the rich smell of vibrant earth and misty rain. A tingling ignites and hums through my blood, a restlessness that begs me to take off my shoes and let soft grass caress my toes. Another gust smells of life and even though I’m not a gardener, my fingers itch to dig into the ground and feel dirt between my fingers. Shaking off the hibernation of winter, my soul pops an eye open and begins to stretch. A wave of giddiness tempts me to skip down the sidewalk to my apartment.
What is it about spring promise that wakes my blood and my soul? Could it be that the Creator of spring and of winter planned it that way? To teach of redemption that comes after the numbness and the parched wildernesses and the dark, lonely places? Maybe even to speak of healing water that washes away the scars of winters that we chose. It reminds me of the verse Beth Moore told me to write down in bible study this morning: “Therefore, repent and return, so that your sins may be wiped away, in order that times of refreshing may come from the presence of the Lord; and that He may send Jesus, the Christ appointed for you,” (Acts 3:19-20). Spring promises new life, for which my soul so desperately thirsts. And I think the Weaver of nature and spirit and life knew it would.
“Our lord, it seems that you have just begun to show me your great power. No other god in the sky or on earth is able to do the mighty things that you do.”