I step out into the chill invigorating morning. The light powder of white, fallen in the night, sparkles like countless iridescent diamonds in the brilliance of morning sunshine. I pause a moment, taking in the beauty, and it's then that I first hear the message. Born on the clear morning air, the sweet symphony makes my heart catch it's breath in glad surprise. The trilling, whistling, melodies of winter songbirds!
It's been months -- months of silence and longing. Longing for the joyous sound of birdsong that comes with the return of Spring and fills the golden hours of summer. With the winter silence comes the absence of the song Clear and piping comes the joyous whistle of a Chickadee. The song I first learned to know one spring in early childhood. I throw back my head to take in the sweep of crisp winter blue above me and something stirs within. Something I have been longing for seems to whisper through my heart but I can't quite grasp it. Yet it beckons and I follow...
The pathway winds ahead of me and a sense wonder growing as I traverse it's virgin track. It is unmarred by other's footsteps, as if this unfolding secret has been born for me alone. As if it's delights are held in store just for me. I think of the pathway, unbroken whiteness. And my heart seems to see in it, our high calling -- unbroken praise. My footsteps are light and joyful, as I follow onward, seeking to discover the message's whispered meaning.
I commune with Him and He with me. My heart marvels in joy at His goodness and faithfulness. I'm reminded of the storm that raged yesterday. Of the storms that are even now raging. And yet somehow within all is calm and still -- basking in His promises. His word. His power.
When I open the mailbox, a surge of excitement rushes through me. My uncertain anticipation bursts into joyous discovery as I pull forth the waiting message. I stop short in sheer wonder. The message is so bold and clear, so just for me! The promise that those that sow in tears will reap in joy. That my labors have not been in vain. The promise that there will be a harvest. But most joyous of all, this promise of Hope that sets my blood tingling. The heralded of coming Spring!
I seem to see it everywhere now. This message of Hope. In the neighbor child that comes running across cold whiteness with no coat or cap, stopping now to dance in the icy cold. He too seems to sense that this winter will not last forever. In the song of the birds this morning. In that clear sweet whistle that has always seemed to speak to my heart of SPRING...
But it still seems almost too good to be true! Is it possible? The stirring of dreams in my heart as I walked and prayed this morning...will they be fulfilled? The stirring of hope that warms the blood frozen by pain and fear. Will it be for naught? A seeming promise of a season of healing warmth in the changing of the year. Will it truly be?
I return to the warmth of home. Putting away winter wraps I find my Bible. Sit down to read my daily portion. Wondering what His heart is for me through the written Word. I plan to read in my normal place -- my favorites these days. The gospels and the Psalms. But the pages fall open and I read with awe the Hope breathed words...
The message is crystal clear. No matter the storms we still must face. No matter the ice and cold that still locks all the world without in a frozen silence. The shortest day of the year is past. The darkness will slowly slowly give way to the light of longer days. And in it all is the promise. The promise that spring will come.For He who made the seasons promised that they will be without fail. And His promise cannot fail. The ice in my heart gives way, melts into a river of joyous hope and confidence. And in awe, I worship.