by Emily Conrad

Snow still quilts the ground, but it’s begun to melt away from the edges of things, shifting to the side like the comforter on my bed does when it’s time to stop merely straightening the blankets and, instead, to remake it entirely.

The season is being remade. Winter into spring.

We might still be in for some snow and cold, but spring is a certainty.

As I wait for it impatiently, it edges ever closer, ushered in by a faithful God.

Spring doesn’t fail to arrive.

Hope swells like a seedling pushing to the surface as I ponder that.

I sip my coffee and flex my fingers and puzzle over how to explain why such a basic truth has filled me with such wonder. Such hope.
Last year was a long one for me, peppered with disappointments. Even in the midst of summer, doing things I usually find life-giving, I felt uneasy and discontent. I longed for a change. For a spring-like breakthrough.

Of course, I experienced wonderful moments, too. Even winter has its beauty. And as far as figurative winters go, they come much harsher than last year.

Yet I spent a lot of time waiting impatiently for change.

And now, as spring thaws the world outside the window, I’ve felt a shift inside, too.

New opportunities, flowing words, deepening friendships, spiritual revival.

I can’t credit any effort on my part.

Friends have messaged and emailed me about opportunities I didn’t even know to seek. (I’m thinking of 3 separate friends on 3 different occasions!) My class at church ended and was replaced with something else. Edits I’d struggled with in the past came together.

Yes, it was up to me to sit in my desk chair and work on some of these things. Yes, I’ve had to make decisions to obey what I felt God called me to do.

And yet, as the trees can’t summon spring, I couldn’t force this.

The spring breezes that have swept into my life are driven by a wind I don’t control.

Spring is a gift.

So much so, I don’t know for certain I’m right about this particular season change at this particular time. I don’t know what will bloom and grow from here. Am I on the cusp of a brand new springtime, full of new growth and change? Or is this a temporary reprieve, with more winter to come?

Either way, I’m reminded seasons do change. And in this, we have significant hope.

The God who created the seasons and has upheld them by His might will not fail to bring times of warmth and refreshment to His children.

He is steadier than spring. He is more faithful than the sun.

We will experience wintery trials.

But in them, He is with us, and spring always, always comes.

In the life of a believer, spring comes in small ways. In moments of comfort, despite trying circumstances. In assurances of God’s love and provision in times of want.

Those aren’t really small, are they? They’re simply intangible.

Occasionally, we may experience a season of renewal that seems more drastic. All seems verdant and new.

But, those times, I suppose, aren’t guaranteed in this life. Certainly, we can’t force them, and we can’t put our lives on hold until they arrive.

We must live with gratitude and obedience in the season God’s given us.

I have experienced times of need and times of abundance. In any and every circumstance I have learned the secret of contentment, whether I go satisfied or hungry, have plenty or nothing. I am able to do all things through the one who strengthens me.
Philippians 4:12-13, NET

Like Paul, we must learn the secret to thriving, no matter the season.

And that secret is relationship with God through Jesus Christ.

Because, ultimately, He, Himself, is our springtime.

Rather than living our life, longing for the next temporal breakthrough, the next figurative springtime–as wonderful as those experiences are–it is hope of eternity with Him that is to anchor our souls.

As He does not fail to bring the seasons in their time to our planet, He will not fail to deliver believers into the ultimate season of celebration and joy in heaven.

That is the spring guaranteed to all who believe.

As we enjoy other times of renewal and warmth, physical and figurative, may we remember that these are but precursors. For those who are in Christ, the best springtime is yet to come.

When we’re in the midst of winter, may our memories of springtimes past remind us of the certain hope we have in Christ for the future.

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Photo credits
Person holding flower photo by Artsy Vibes on Unsplash
Tulips photo by Tijana Drndarski on Unsplash
Crocuses photo by Biegun Wschodni on Unsplash