The last few weeks have seen the dawn of spring. The snow melted, the sun shone, and birds twittered in budding treetops. After the cold and darkness of winter, who can resist the light of spring? It’s like the Son of God shining into a life, bringing transformation and then growth. The ice of sin melts under the strong light, and birds of praise start singing. Summer looks tantalizingly close.
Then last week, winter came slinking in again. The temperature fell, a raw wind blew, and the clouds scattered snowflakes. Where is the hope of spring now? What do we do when reality hits, when summer seems as distant as the snow-veiled sun?
We look for the signs of spring through the storm. Despite the wind, the air is alive with hope. The sunshine has new strength. No amount of snowflakes can alter the fact that the earth is now in more of a position to embrace the sunshine than it was during the winter. And the birds keep singing.
On Friday, just when I was convinced I was done wearing winter clothes for the season, I woke to a world of snow. That morning it was hard to find traces of spring. The air was cold. Clouds hung low, hiding the eager sun. Even the crows seemed to have gone silent.
But by noon, the sun had conquered the clouds. By two-thirty, the downspouts were singing their drippy music and in places where the snow had been partly cleared away, the ground was thawing.
Everything kept on thawing; the sun kept shining, stronger and stronger.
The last few days, it feels as if summer is almost upon us. The children at school go barefoot and slip in the mud during a game of Get the Sticks, and I’m sweating when I come inside even though I haven’t been wearing a coat. The piles of snow in the corners of the schoolyard are mere gray shadows of their former mountain appearance. The leeks my brothers planted in flats have sprouted.
They say that cool weather is soon creeping back for a few days. There will be clouds that block our view of the sun. There may even be snow.
But I will breathe the transformed air, sing with the birds, and turn toward the sun.
Summer is coming.