I am a person who loves sunshine; who loves the heat of a sunny summer day and the cool, crisp sunshine of fall. Don’t get me wrong, I love winter snow too but, living where I do, I mostly get rain. Dreary, drizzly rain. Torrential downpour of rain. Misting rain where you think you’re safe to go outside because, well, how bad could it really be, but come back more soaked than if you had been in a monsoon and wondering how that even happened! Sometimes there is the promise of snow and I get excited at even the possibility of sitting, sipping hot cocoa, and staring out at the perfect blanket of white that forms! And then the poor weather people have to retract their prediction because the weather patterns have changed for the umpteenth time and disappointment pitter-patters on my windowsills instead as I look out on more rain.
Clearly, winter is not my favorite thing (at least not the way Portland, Oregon does it). And, if this isn’t your first visit to my blog, then you’ll know by now neither are seasons of waiting, or bareness. I think that’s why the quote above resonated so deeply within my heart. I love the way author Adriel Booker points out how we can often see farther in the bareness of winter than we can in the seasons of full bloom. That does not mean it is easy, the blizzards still come and the loss of life in winter is still felt, but there is beauty in knowing when I look I have the grace to see farther.
We have entered a season of new life in our family as we await the birth of Verity’s little sister come spring. Spring is a season of new life, new growth, and the promise that there is good that comes out of all that rain. I am thankful for what the bareness of winter teaches me and I am thankful for the promise of hope and grace spring holds.