Spring is in the air. The Redbud tree outside of my office is always the first to declare it so. The dead of winter in futility hanging on as the buds emerge on the limbs. The garden in my yard is pushing up tulips, spinach and other early arrivals to the party. Spring is flush with change and beauty and fruit and color and pause to wonder.
My daughter came home from college for Spring Break and with her siblings they slept and sunned and enjoyed the pause. The day before she traveled home she sat on a platform before her peers at church and told her story. A story of pain and heart ache, physical struggle and spiritual doubt, a story of insecurity, depression and ultimately God’s healing and her renewed faith.
I sat on the front row, like she has done for so many messages I have delivered. I sat with tears streaming in joy and in remembrance. God has been faithful and in this momentary ‘Spring’ the change, the color, the promise of fruit and the pause to remember overwhelmed me.
Spring is the season of change to fruitfulness; while fall is the season of change to dormancy. As I watch my daughter step onto the stage to “tell her story” I am watching her step into Spring.