Seasonal Disorder?

Spring.  It's April 23rd and my calendar says we are officially a month into Spring. (Not that my town got the memo, as it snowed yesterday.)  But it is, in fact, spring again. And more importantly (at least to me) it's spring again in my life.
It was about a year ago that I was sitting with 5 incredible women who met regularly for the express purpose of helping each other pay attention to what God is saying to us. We were talking about the 'seasons' of our lives and how God moves us through those different seasons expertly, even though we would prefer perpetual spring.  You know, that time in life when things feel fresh and clean again? When there is renewed energy and new, beautiful things popping up all over? That Spring.  I want to live in that Spring year-round. But as we talked that day, I was struck by the fact that God didn't design nature to work that way. So why would I expect the seasons of my life to work that way?  

You can't experience spring without first living through the winter. There has to be that time to rest and regroup.  Be still.  Soak in.  Be held.  And then as spring is coming, there's the raking away of all that's dead.  There's painful (sometimes drastic) pruning.  And then more care: a little feeding, lots of water, some storms.  And small beginnings.  That's where I am. 

It's been a loooong season of winter for me.  A kind of slow dying - that actually started so slowly, I didn't even realize it was happening.  By the time I figured it out, the damage was done.  I was well and truly fried. Done. Finished.  The 'let-me-run-away-and-never-come-back' kind of done.  That's a scary place to be.  And not knowing how I got there, I didn't know how to find my way back. But then, just like a child who got lost in the store, my Father came and found me.  

I can see now that He was there long before I recognized Him.  I was too busy crying and (honestly) throwing a tantrum, to see Him standing by patiently, lovingly, hand outstretched.   And when I finally quieted enough to hear His voice reassuring me, I was able to just rest in His arms.  

So when I look at the trees budding and the flowers blooming, I'm reminded that my Dad is faithful. Spring will always come after Winter.  And this year, when Spring turns to Summer, I'll swim and dance and sing and play.  And when that Summer turns to Autumn, I'll laugh and gather and be thankful.  And when the next Winter comes in my life, I want to embrace it as the much-needed rest that my all-knowing, Creator-God designed for me.  And I'll snuggle in, quiet myself and be at peace.