Watching for Spring

February 23, 2013

Waiting for Spring Blog “Miracles are a retelling in small letters of the very same story which is written across the whole world in letters too large for some of us to see.” C. S. Lewis 

It has been a hard winter, and I am somewhat desperate to force the spring. I am looking for the small signs, the early bulbs, and budding trees not yet opened, the grass beginning to grow thick and green on the wet corners of the yard. I think I am waiting for nature to break through and reassure me we are not forgotten here in the winter cold, that the earth will warm and the season turn. Today was a cold day, beginning with tiny, pelting sleet like a shower of icy candy my son would love. There was disappointing news and no checks in the mail, and we think the baby may be getting a serious cold. We went to a coffee shop and had a conversation with our new Pastor about the meaning of the Cross and what is lost when the other overarching stories of scripture are forgotten in our zeal for seeing God as only Holy, defeating sin, and not also the restorer of the exile and the rebuilder of broken walls and lives. Despite the signs from heaven, this was a sign of spring to me.

Psalm 104:30
You send forth Your Spirit… And You renew the face of the earth.

How we tell the story of redemption matters so much that the world is whispering it right now, as roots and leaves and tight buds fight through the hard ground of this season the church calls Lent to insist that life will be renewed, winter will end and love will win. And it matters how we tell our own stories. I am weary of trudging through the not yet Holy narrative. The one where we endlessly, hopelessly fall short of the Glory of God. Each unorganized toy pile, unfinished project, untouched to do list, and unpayable bill rises up to remind me I am not enough, will never be enough; as a woman, as a child of God, as an artist. I am beginning to listen again for the other interpretation where He is moving all of time to restore me to relationship with Himself. Where He is seeking me in my exile and calling me home. That he does not love me in spite of my humanity, but because of it. The aching in my heart for rebirth is not the sign I am not worthy of His love, but it is the stirring of the seed of Love that is already there planted. The image of God growing better in dirt and rain and tears and truth than in some pretense I will never reach anyway.

So let the cold rain fall. There is a story here God is trying to tell me -- a story that matters. I am listening now, for the first time in years, and would hate to rush this season.


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 I'm a designer, wife and mother of two.  I post my work and on the places where creativity and life’s clutter intersect. Looking for inspiration and finding balance.  Join me on the journey.

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TwitterRachel4My name is Rachel. Good to meet you. I like caramel coffee, the way patterns of light or color or ideas fit together, and mornings at the ocean. Dislikes include: political ads, conspicuous wealth and mornings in general. Together, my husband Buddy and I are daily challenged and blessed as we raise two children and run one business: By His Designs.

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