Spring is just beginning to arrive here, and with it lots of mud. Our road is rutted and it's just hard to keep from sinking down. The promise of green things is whispering, but still eludes. It almost seems we could long the green into being, but ah, He is the only bringer of green, of life. He brought the winter and only he can give us the longings of our hearts. Many of us would never ask for winter, yet it is a part of His perfect plan. Many of us would never ask for certain seasons of life, those of trial, of grief, of pain, yet they too are woven by him into the tapestry of his perfect will. And yet there is always the promise of spring, the promise of life after death, the promise of joy after mourning. I will be satisfied to look ahead to that time...of life, joy and spring. I may see a glimpse of it here, but I should not count on that. He will make all things new, but that will wait, that is heaven. My hope of heaven, of life is in Him.
