Spring is Coming!

As I do every morning while holding my first cup of coffee, I looked outside the window above the kitchen sink and stared toward the garden. At first glance, it looked dead and lifeless. There was no vibrancy to the landscape. No color and no beauty. A crisp, fresh frost covered the brown grass. I couldn’t help but notice how it mirrored the palette of grief. Just like the winter garden, grief can look and feel so empty, lonely, cold and forlorn.

 

But then as I took another sip from my hot mug I noticed something new. The birds outside my kitchen window were full of excitement; as if they were in on a secret we don’t yet know or believe. I saw more than winter’s sparrows and cardinals. Today I noticed the finches and robins. They were flitting around from tree to fence post with a palpable anticipation under their wings. I felt their happiness as they chirped a joyful song that didn’t match their setting.

I was reminded in that early morning moment that although my eyes could only see evidence of a cold, dank and depressed future, the birds have faith in what’s yet to come. They are able to look beyond current evidence and joyfully expect what can’t be seen. They do more than hope, they believe…they trust…they know!

That’s not always how it is for us. When our grief has overtaken our ability to smile, to hope, to anticipate, the only evidence we can SEE has us believing we will never be ok again. This must be how it will always look and feel. This is our life now, we tell ourselves. We look around and feel unable. We believe we will never be able to experience joy again, never be excited about anything again, and never feel alive again.

But Spring is coming. The birds believe it. They can’t see the roots being fed under the surface or the strengthening that’s happening where the eye can’t see, and yet they know better days are ahead. They can’t see the bulbs preparing to burst through the soil with new, colorful and vibrant life. They don’t have evidence the trees are organizing a symphony of fragrant blooms. And yet, they believe things will change. They believe it so much they can’t help but sing melodic applause for the future.

I want to be like those birds. I want the kind of faith they have. I want to boldly reject all visual evidence of hopelessness and instead trust so confidently in the beauty that’s around the corner that I can’t stop myself from singing praise for all to hear!

I believe God wants us to know this too. I believe He wanted me to observe the bird’s glory amidst their dull and bleak backdrop. It was a reminder I needed this morning. I was given a Romans 8:18 kind of moment to rekindle a new hope for all the days ahead.

~Romans 8: 18

“For I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worth comparing with the glory that is to be revealed to us.”

I put on my heavy winter coat and walked outside to inspect my winter garden more closely. At first it seemed the same as it had from my kitchen window; DEAD.

 

But then I looked closer.

Do you see it? Do you see the hope starting to bravely break through the weight of winter?

Sometimes it’s hard to see and impossible to feel. It feels and looks lifeless and hopeless on the surface.

But it’s still there. Life, happiness, hope…it’s still within us.

This morning reminded me that it’s ok to be sad when things feel cold, lonely and hopeless, but it also prompted me to recall what 1 Thessalonians 4:13-18 talks about. It got me thinking about what it means to grieve differently than the rest of mankind. We can look at what seems done, gone forever, completed and still know the story isn’t over yet.

We have hope, friends! We have knowledge, just like the birds! This wintery lifeless stuff is not forever! This is God’s radical truth for us. I pray it encourages you, as it has me this morning.

Grief is hard. It’s hard to have faith when sorrow has overtaken us. Sometimes we just aren’t able to be like the birds. Sometimes we aren’t any different than anyone else. But it’s my prayer this sparks a glimmer of confidence within you. I hope it reassures you of the promises God has made for not only you, but for the one you grieve. Winter doesn’t get the last say, my friends. Because Spring is coming.

~ 1 Thessalonians 4:13-18 (The Message)

^13-14 And regarding the question, friends, that has come up about what happens to those already dead and buried, we don’t want you in the dark any longer. First off, you must not carry on over them like people who have nothing to look forward to, as if the grave were the last word. Since Jesus died and broke loose from the grave, God will most certainly bring back to life those who died in Jesus.

^15-18 And then this: We can tell you with complete confidence—we have the Master’s word on it—that when the Master comes again to get us, those of us who are still alive will not get a jump on the dead and leave them behind. In actual fact, they’ll be ahead of us. The Master himself will give the command. Archangel thunder! God’s trumpet blast! He’ll come down from heaven and the dead in Christ will rise—they’ll go first. Then the rest of us who are still alive at the time will be caught up with them into the clouds to meet the Master. Oh, we’ll be walking on air! And then there will be one huge family reunion with the Master. So reassure one another with these words.

Extra grace,

Jodi