This morning, as Gia was at preschool, I was folding laundry in her room. Joanna was bouncing around from Legos to baby dolls. An ordinary morning with my extraordinary blessings. I had the bedroom window shades pulled up high. Its cloudy and overcast today but I always prefer natural light to anything else. At this point in the middle of winter, I’ll take all the vitamin D I can get. As I was folding little shirts that aren’t as little as they once were, staring nonchalantly off into the world outside my window, my heart lept! It leapt with joy into my throat so quickly it brought tears up into my eyes. Just beyond the window pane is a big tree in the middle of our front yard. It gives bright green leaves in Spring, cool dark shade in the summertime and beautiful hues of yellow and orange in the Fall. But in Winter, its just there. Kinda blah. A skeleton of what its potential is, biding its time until the warmth of Spring signals new life. But today it wasn’t the dreary bare branches that caught my attention. In the moment I glanced out the window at that tree and saw beyond its seasonal dormant skeleton, I saw the tiniest glimmer of white! WHITE! A bud! It was as if overnight, the tree decided it was time to get back to work. I ran out of the house, still in my pajamas and snapped this picture as proof.
Its February 1st. Today is my sister’s birthday (hi Megan!). And it also marks the beginning of Whitney’s birth month. Her birthday is in just a few days, and at this time of year I start to tune in even closer to the whispers of God’s love. Parts of winter have kept me dormant, hibernating. And I know that Spring is still a long ways off, we’ll likely get another month of winter weather, but for today, I have a promise that new life is coming. On the day Whitney was born, it was as if Fresno rolled out the brilliant white carpet of Spring in her honor. We pulled out of our neighborhood early that Thursday morning of the 11th onto a street that was lined with beautiful white blossoming trees. Full blossoms, bouquets of white spraying forth from every branch. The streets to the hospital were completely lined with those beautiful trees. They urged us on, mile by mile, as we drove towards the hardest place of our lives. They were whispering God’s goodness even then, in the midst of death. They whispered promises of new life, rebirth, and victory over the grave.
This morning, I am grateful for the reminder that God brings new life in even the darkest seasons. This year, its just some winter blahs for me. But maybe you’re facing something harder. Something darker. Maybe this winter, death has taken something precious from you— a sister, a child, a friend, a marriage. May I just encourage you today to look out your window for a sign that new life is coming? The signs of Spring are there, if we look for them. God’s goodness is all around us, even when we don’t feel it. You are His, you are loved and we can have forever hope in life eternal with Jesus.
