From the archives~ I came across this post the other day that I published a couple years ago on my old blog and thought the sentiment was pretty appropriate for this spring, since winter just kept hanging on this year!
A few minutes ago, if the occupants of the dark green truck driving by bothered to look up, they would have seen a crazy girl sprawled on the steps of a front porch, wearing a sequin-sprinkled sweatshirt, lifting her face to the sun while brushing her teeth. (It’s March in New Hampshire. You get outside while the sun is shining or you miss out.) Yes, the promise of spring is in the air today, the bright sunshine which has been absent for so long of late luring me outside again, this time with a pen and paper instead of a toothbrush, as I draft this post.
I don’t usually look forward to spring very much, preferring snow and cold weather over heat and humidity and lawn mowing and gardening and black flies and mosquitoes and ticks (I will admit, working outside does have its rewards, the bugs NOT being among them, however). But this winter has been a different one, and I haven’t been able to get outside as much as usual. I’m looking forward to the brightness of spring after the darkness of winter. This time of year I start thirsting for sunshine and color. I crave the feeling of the gentle rays of the sun soaking into my skin, the cool breeze sweeping over the snow keeping my nose chilled and making me enjoy the blanket lying over me.
Another thirst accompanies that which I feel for light and color; a thirst for my Savior, for hearing His voice in my heart and communing with Him. For being purged of the sin that lies too comfortably within me and being washed pure white like the snow that the sun is reflecting so brightly. To be refreshed in the Word like the cool breeze refreshes my warm face and stale lungs. To sing a sweet song of praise with my life like the birds chirping in the trees and the wind chimes blowing in the breeze. To have spring in my heart.
In a few short weeks the sun will grow stronger and I will again hide from it instead of seeking its warmth, and black flies will prevent the luxury of laying outside on the porch in peace. But spiritual spring, the warm sunshine of God’s undeserved favor and the refreshing breeze of His Word, can live on in my heart all year long.