Skip to main content

Unspeakable Grace: Hints of Spring

Good morning.
 
As the sun begins to peek through our dreary clouds and the tiniest sprigs of green start to pop through the brown, it’s as if the Lord is reminding us of His power to come and make all things new. He is so faithful to show up just about the time we thought Winter might last forever with a big handful of Spring. 
 
If it’s still dark where you are, hold on. If the branches you can see are still bare and new life is nowhere to be found, rest assured rejuvenation is on its way. The morning always follows the night, no matter how long the night may be. Silence will be broken by the song of a brave little bird one day very soon. 
 
Hope will rise on the horizon before you know it. Until it does, sing through the night. Chin quivering, knees knocking, hands trembling – however you have to do it, just do it. Stand to your feet, find your voice, and lift your voice and your heart to the one who’s held you all along. 

Don't rush these slow days of Spring because you long for the carefree days of sunshine and Summer. Watch all creation unfold and unwrap the new life He's bringing to us again. Marvel in the wonder of who He is and all He longs to do in this new season. Don't miss it. Breathe it in. Notice every branch full of new leaves each morning and don't take the serenade of all His creatures for granted in the evening. 
 
Don't let this current darkness make you forget the light that has come. The Son shines on. Turn your face toward Him today, friend.


Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Home is Near

I stood at the end of the boardwalk, slipping my feet into the sandy shoes I had left there earlier in the day. Little ones waiting impatiently at the other end, I was in a hurry to get to the next thing, but the setting sun over the majestic ocean stopped me in my tracks. Immediately, I exhaled. Surrounded by His glory, I felt embraced by my Father in an instant. One glance and He was no longer distant, but enveloping me - and it felt like home.


Scripture tells us sheep know the voice of their shepherd. It is basic and instinctual. No one need educate them on the intonations of his voice nor of his rugged appearance. When he is near, they simply know.

I get that.

Before anyone accurately educated me on the character of Jesus, before I had the opportunity to understand doctrine, before I knew how divisive religion can be, I knew He was near. When life got hard and sin got heavy and dark, He was the light I ran to. Since those steps, I have not taken a single one alone. He's always…

A Story Worth Telling

I was one of the lucky ones. From the very beginning, I was told there was nothing I could not do. Every report card was met with praise. When I doubted myself, I knew at least two people in the world who believed I could rope the stars if only I tried. I was well into my twenties before it hit me that there were real limitations on what I could do, on who I could be.

By choice, I was the college girl who wore a veil before I wore a cap and gown.  By grace, I held the title of Mom before any other professional one - and still value it over any I'll hold. We had a mortgage before we had a clue. We had struggles nobody warned me about. We had babies born in packages we never imagined. Parts of my story were just too painful to tell. I never stopped believing in the happily ever after, but somewhere along the way, the rains came and washed away all my courage, all my confidence.

I didn't have to attend Sunday school every week or be part of a youth group to know from a young age …

Sad Eyes

She was walking down the hall, just doing her job when he flagged her down and summoned her into our tiny room with its glass windows.

"Ma'am? Can I ask you a question?" 
Time stood still. She waited for his question. I wondered where he was going with this. Never the one to ask questions, always the one to be stoic and strong, I was hushed by the pleading tone in his voice. 
"You have sad eyes. Can you tell me why?"
I hadn't noticed her sad eyes before, but now they were filled with tears.
The young resident, who we soon learned had three boys of her own just about the ages of our girls, was heartbroken for us. Despite her determination to remain professional and optimistic, she knew the prognosis for our tiny girl was grim and apparently, her eyes gave her away before her lips found the courage to form the words.
My firstborn says I have a knack for tying something to sad to everything and I suppose the point I hope to make here is no different. It's be…