spring.

O dawn, won’t you come?
O morning, can’t you visit me?
O light, where are you?
O spring, when will you come?

cries emptied out in the space between mouth and pillow, longings spilled out in the chasm between heart and wall.
cries that were genuine.
tears that were authentic.
longings and desires that were pure.
but still.
winter clung to me though i begged for spring.
God, where are you?
why won’t you give me spring?
spring was all i thought of.
it was my obsession, my every waking thought.
my idol.
and our God, the God of winter and the God of spring, will not give spring to those who do not know its power.
i didn’t.
i didn’t know what spring was.
i thought i knew.
i had my perceptions, my ideas, my boxes in which to fit spring into, but in reality my version of spring was simply a destruction of winter and death instead of a renewal of spring and life.
(the one focuses on negatively affecting the negative. the other focuses on positively affecting the positive potential in which the major side effect is that the negative will be made void by the positive made manifest.)
but i wanted spring.
i wanted the flowers this color, the air to blow that way, the birds to sing this tune.
but still spring did not come.
yet i retained this promise from God, my God, the one who is pulsing throughout my body in incredible energy: “Spring is coming.”
how?
when?
where?
why?
my fixation was on details, instead of being on Him.
my spring was for me, not for Him.
and that’s why it did not come.
i can’t tell you what changed.
i can’t pinpoint what exactly turned my heart.
maybe it was a process.
maybe it was fasting.
maybe it was prayer.
maybe it was this, that.
maybe it was all of that.
but i know one thing.
it was Him.
and it came when i finally realized that my spring is nothing compared to the spring He has for me.
my boxes are too small for what He wants to give me.
my ideologies and theologies can’t explain the life He wants to give.
but He’s not giving it just for me.
He’s giving it to me, so i can give it back to Him and together we can have the most incredible spring, summer, and fall.
and when winter comes again, which it will, i will not resist it.
and when spring is ready to bloom in my heart, i will not turn it away when it doesn’t look the way i think it should look.
His goodness is not defined by my perceptions of His goodness, it’s defined by Him.
He is the author of goodness.
He is the giver of spring.
and spring is here.
i know it.
the winter is past.
i forget the taste of the bitter wind, and the bite of the cold air is lost in memory as my senses are freshly tantalized by the extravagant beauty manifesting in explosions of purity and destiny all around me.
now let me get something straight.
no, i don’t forget what the pain was like.
no, i don’t forget the confusion and longing.
but i forget their power.
i can still remember things without them having a hold on me anymore.
that’s the difference spring makes.
spring makes me free, not only from winter, but also from me.
in winter, i was trying to survive, fend for myself, live for, care for, me.
me.
but in spring i am freed from that ancient prison of pride and desire.
i am imprisoned by his love, i am locked up in his arms of grace.
there is no need to try and survive.
there is power to thrive.
there is peace to rest.
there is joy to dance.
spring has come.
and the summer is yet before me.