My seasons are a muck.
We are in a streak of days stretching to 90 or 100 degrees, so clearly summer is densely, thickly here.
Yet, school has started. Autumn must be coming. This smells of apples, cider, sweatshirts, football games, painted leaves, and freshly sharpened pencils.
(And also, pumpkin spice goodness at Starbucks. This is the only way I can forgive them for discontinuing my beloved coconut.)
And yet, I feel like it is still winter. It has been winter for a long, long time.
I am looking for spring, such an elusive season.
I sometimes feel extended days of sunshine, and I seem to see buds peeking through - only to feel them hardened by another cold frost that sweeps in overnight.
I have tried to peek around the corner and into the next chapter... yet the words of fruit and flower seem empty to me.
Perhaps spring must begin on its own calendar.
Perhaps I can neither wish nor read myself into a new season.
I can only wait for what grows underground.
4 comments:
I'm not sure if you know a song called "Spring" by Katy Kinard? It has helped me through an enormously difficult time, and speaks to this post so clearly to me.
If I knew you I'd just gift it to you, but I don't yet, so here's the link: http://amzn.to/qw4Jfc. :)
For everything there'e a season.
Praying that God's leads you, While I don't really want tto say enjoy this season, I feel like God want me to. I hope I don't offend you. You are such a strong lady.
Your word pictures so often resonate with me. At 13mo out from my daughter's death, I am just starting to see signs of Spring and then continued shorter cold snaps interrupt. The combiniation encourages me but also inflames my impatience, a grief companion. Waiting too.
Hi Tricia,
Your words are beautiful, thank you for sharing your truth despite the fact that it's not always pretty. Hang in there, I'll pray for you.
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