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I Can Hear the Song of Spring in Melting Icicles

February 1, 2009

It feels a little like spring today. Not a lot (it’s only 40 degrees), but just a hint, a gentle hand laying lightly on my shoulder, whispering in my ear that it won’t always be like this.

Even amongst the squashy, muddled snow and puddles that soak my boots and even my socks, I can feel it. It feels like hope, like redemption, like a silent promise that the leaves are still hiding in the branches, the flowers are still in the ground but that someday (not TOO soon), they will gracefully begin to stretch out their arms and wake up.

This taste of spring in the air was like catnip to me — as soon as I got one drop, it was like a bell went off in my head and shot through my arms and legs like an electric shock. After weeks of wanting to do nothing but burrow, today, I wanted nothing more than to DO. (I even craved ice cream for the first time in months, which is always a telltale sign of LIFE.) I mopped, I scrubbed, I made soup (goat cheese tomato bisque…mmm), I baked cookies, I did laundry. Suddenly, it was like I wanted nothing more than for the house to feel like it felt outside — buzzing with an untraceable, unnamed, trembling feeling of being alive.

As I pulled my clean sheets out of the dryer, I devoured that seductive smell of fresh, warm linen, which to me is almost better than breathing. Between that and the lavender soap I used to clean our floors, I wanted to dance. So I did — it had been too long since I’d listened to the Beatles. So Paul, Ringo, John, George and I boogied down while I chopped carrots and garlic for my soup.

Though I’m sure that this day is only a hiccup in what will inevitably be at least another two months of winter, it was still enough to remind me that the world is bigger than my life, my problems, my thoughts. The circle of life is one of birth and death, crucifixion and redemption, despair and hope. I only have to look around me and see the signs everywhere that it will not always be like this. Like Lucy when she first begins to hear the dripping of icicles and the hopeful gurgle of the river, I remember that after death will always come life.

And we have that promise too — we go through seasons just like the earth, winters, springs, summers, autumns; seasons of pain, of celebration, of doubt, of confusion, but over and over and over again, in all things, we are promised a renewal.

Hang in there.
Spring is coming.

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2 Comments leave one →
  1. Amanda permalink
    February 2, 2009 3:44 pm

    This blog was meant for me to read today, it hit a hard spot in my heart. I am having one of those days where I am struggling to find good parts of me…all I can think about is what I do wrong and how I am NEVER going to be a good christian woman that others admire (like yourself).

    But this blog made me think of the times when I am on a “high” as I call them, where all I want to do is help others, think about them, care for them.

    I am still working so very hard to make Christ the center of my life and not something I have to work to fit in between work, friends, chris and social hour.

    Thank-you for making me think of the next season….and that this to will pass with a little warmth from the inside.

    See you tonight! 🙂

  2. Caroline permalink*
    February 2, 2009 4:43 pm

    Trust me, none of us are ever the Proverbs 31, “good Christian woman” that we think we should be. I think people (especially women, especially control-freak women like us!) have such high expectations of what it means to be this or that, that we can work our whole lives towards becoming that and never (in our eyes) really reach it.

    I am by no means in a place where I no longer feel like I don’t have to keep struggling every day to keep my head above water. I know I disappoint God in a thousand ways every day, but I am continually encouraged that His love is big enough to cover all my mistakes so that tomorrow, He won’t even remember them. His Love is always bigger than us.

    I am excited to hang out tonight — see you then!

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