Desperately Clinging

Winter contains inherent beauty. Bare limbs and blue land, clear skies and a chimerical array of constellations that seems less dim than during summer's humid nights. I'm fond of winter. But, I'm fonder of spring.

While late winter breezes whip past dried flower stalks and grasses, which the birds have cleared of lingering seeds, my eyes roam the garden for signs of warmer weather. Sage and thyme both show greener leaves in their depths. And, I also notice indigo starting to yearn to show off its vibrant flowers. Nor are those wild thorn bushes just donned in gray, for a rosiness blushes in their tips now.

February whispers garden. Do you hear it? By the end of the month, little sugar snap peas will be sown into their raised beds, along with leafy greens and similar cold-weather plants that do well in the Shenandoah Valley. I'm also yearning to start my indoor seeds, too.

Even moreso, I'm yearning to cultivate my soul's glow. Like long, deeply-felt illness, stagnation often seeps in when we least expect it. I can feel my heart longing for its awakening - for its time to shine beyond the pain and longing and bitterness that grow like weeds. Do you know the feeling, friend?

May winter's slowing lead to warmer and happier opportunities for you, too, friend. Take a moment to savor something that makes you truly happy - and then promise yourself you will share that joy with others. Don't hold back, don't resort to automatic pilot, and don't let yourself fall back into ruts. Cling desperately to God's calling and smile.