Perfect Spring

It finally stopped raining this morning. It was probably last night, but all I know is that when I opened the blinds this morning, the sun was shining. That made me very happy. 

I live in Florida although I lived in the Pacific Northwest for just over 30 years of my life where innumerable days of rain was the norm. I've been a Florida resident for coming up on 20 years and if it rains for three days straight I start to go mad. Sunshine makes me happy. I think that's probably true of most people. It's why the long days of gray clouds and drippy rain was so hard to endure in Washington State. We longed for the sun to break through. It gave us hope for summer days. I remember seeing signs of spring, and knowing there was an end in sight. Granted, spring was as rainy as fall and winter, but still. 

I have a son who lives in Ohio with his family. They have a long, long winter of cold and occassional snow. We had a conversation recently where we talked about how the cold is tolerable if the sun is shining, or if there is snow for the kids to play in. They know spring is a long way away after the excitement of the holidays. I think that is why for so much of my life, spring was my favorite season. Now it is fall since it signals a relief from the over heated steam room we call summer in Florida. 

Spring, though, is a beautiful season. The gift of watching new life begin. Seeing birds flitting about with new energy, busy padding their nests for the new family members soon to arrive. Tree branches, which last week looked like starving fingers reaching to the sky for sustenance, now pushing out tiny infant leaves: proof of life. Squirrels, proving their tiny brains lack long term memory, frantically digging up backyards trying to find the nuts they buried last fall. And most happily are the flowers. Color spots gifted to us by the master painter. Whether they are wildflowers strewn about by the hand of God, or carefully placed by a landscape artist or haphazard homeowner, they are signs that winter has done its time. 

I'm one of the lucky ones, down here in the deep south, where spring comes in late February, early March. Other parts of the country have a few more weeks of sweaters, boots, and maybe even gloves to deal with. But it will come. We know it. It's called hope. Confident hope. Every trip around the sun guarantees it will come.

And just like the assurance that spring will follow winter, we have that same confidence that He will come just like He said. That is our confident hope. So no matter how long the winter may be, no matter how long the rain has been falling, He promised He will come and receive us unto Himself. We keep our eyes on the clouds, watching for the Son to break through.