Spring is peeking around the corner. Every time I step outside, I see signs of new life around me. The grass is greener. The trees are blooming. Everything around me is awakening. Maybe I’m awakening, too.
I’ve been taking daily walks around the yard with eyes wide open to the changing season, searching for the new life unfolding all around me. And every time I find it, I wonder at its beauty. And then my heart wrenches a little, and I ask for the same open eyes to help me see the life that’s coming to the dormant places inside of me. And for the first time in a while, I find myself full of hope—so full of hope that it’s literally overflowing, sloshing over the top of a bucket that’s been empty for so long.
That’s the beauty of spring. Spring always brings hope. I understand and value the necessity of seasons, but spring is a sigh of great hope after a long, dark, dormant season. Dormant seasons can look like death to the untrained eye. And maybe there are places that have died during dormancy. But death does not reign.
What we were is not what we are now. And what we are now is not what we will become.
Becoming is a process. Sometimes it’s hard and you’re not sure the new will ever come. You find it hard to believe and even harder to trust that there’s life stirring inside the sleeping places of your life. But hope stirs within. Life grows within. And He never leaves us alone in the seasons of dormancy that lead to the seasons of blooming.