Movement

March is an aptly named month. It is a time of forward movement. Not only are we leaving the season of greatest darkness and propelling headlong toward long, lush, sun-drenched days, but the entire ecosystem begins bursting forth, displaying what has been achieved in the cold darkness of winter.

In my yard the irises have emerged and stand in perfect formation. They will soon be followed by daffodils, tulips, and alliums. Like a marching band unified in perfect harmony and movement, every bulb, shrub, and tree stays in step with the rhythm set by the drum major.

I said in an post earlier this year that January is hopeful. March brings the unfolding of those hopes. I believe that this season will reveal the much anticipated, glorious bounty that we set our hopes on in the autumn when we planted those bulbs in the mud, in anticipation of spring.

"And the God of all grace, who called you to his eternal glory in Christ, after you have suffered a little while, will himself restore you and make you strong, firm, and steadfast." 1 Peter 5:10

Temporary

There is a rhythm to fall that always delights me. I realize that technically it is still summer, but the routine that commences once my lieblings head off to their first day of school is the unofficial beginnning of that season for me. Today, was that day. And, in keeping with the theme it poured rain. I didn't argue, rather donned my Gorton's-fisherman-yellow rain slicker and began dreaming of baking, and workable soil. If I'd had galoshes, I may have even splashed through some puddles. Autumn is cozy.

As I've mentioned in a previous post, I am grateful for each season. None of them lasts forever. I am still waiting to transition from the difficult financial season that has consumed much of this year, but I wholly trust that it's coming. Then, as now, I will clothe myself in the seasonally appropriate attire and and dance in the rain.

Twigs

Earlier this spring, I went with a friend to a warehouse shopping club where we picked up some plants for our yards. The plants that I chose were neatly packaged, in a bag with a photo showing how the various species had been coordinated to create a beautiful shade garden.

When I pulled some of the plants out, they looked nothing like the illustrations on the back of the bag. There was no sign of leaves or even a hint of which direction these things should be inserted into the ground. Rather, they resembled dried bundles of twigs coated with sawdust. I planted them anyway. It was purely an act of faith.

A few weeks have passed and I had not seen any sign of life from the plants until today. I was weeding the beds and noticed an unusual looking "weed" that I reluctantly dug up, and immediately recognized as one of my stick bundles. I replanted it and then investigated the others. Sure enough, most of the Astilbes now have tiny leaves. I am thrilled and relieved.

This of course, put me in mind of what is happening with my husband's job search. He has been busy planting and fertilizing but as of yet, there has been no sign of success. Still, just because we can't see anything surfacing, that doesn't mean that deep beneath the surface, the root system of this thing isn't stretching out, maturing, and preparing to burst out of the soil.

"Now, faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen."
Hebrews 11:1

Sunshine

It is around 75 degrees today, for the second day running and I am so happy to see that good old sun. I am badly in need of some vitamin D, and sun rays pouring into my windows.

I am looking forward to the slower pace of summer. I plan to suck all of the goodness out of every moment of that season just as I sucked all of the color out of my "Popsicles" as a child (Do you remember that? Reducing those things to nothing more than flavorless icebergs on a stick?)

I hope that this change of season will also usher in the change of season that God is birthing for my household. We are holding up well, still filled with peace, and gazing toward the hills for our help, but I won't pretend like it wont be a relief when we are able to shake the dust of this desert off of our sandals and sit down to feast on the spoils of the promised land.