I love winter - always have - but inevitably as winter comes crawling to a close, I begin to rebel against it.
I rebel, exchanging sweaters for short-sleeves, boots for flip-flops and coats for loosely wound scarves. All of those things I was so excited to pull out my closet as autumn rolled into winter, now feel bulky and itchy and uncomfortable.
I'm longing for spring.
I'm longing for rebirth and renewal.
I'm longing for the waiting of winter to be at its end.
This weekend, we had a sneak preview of spring after an unexpected blizzard hit the Texas panhandle.
The weather was warm and lovely and begged to be played in, so I invited a few friends and their dogs to join me at the park. When we arrived, it only took a few moments for us to settle into the warmth and join in the play of other winter weary folk already out enjoying the day.
I couldn't help feeling as we walked and talked and watched the dogs frolic that we were privy to one of those rare moments when the earth is being reborn - completely made new - and I was grateful to a God who does make things new.
Because I need to remember in a God who makes things new.
I need to remember a God who makes winter melt into spring and who fulfills the longing at the end of waiting seasons. I need to remember a God who constantly makes the world and the heart new.
I need to remember because sometimes in the longest of the waiting season, I forget. I forget the God who knows the desires of our hearts. I forget a God who is trustworthy and loving and good. I forget and I grow fidgety and I rebel against the waiting.
It's in these moments of rebellion, when I need to remember a good God who does not forget me, even in the midst of my rebellion. A God who always tells winter it is time for spring. A God who does not forsake us. A God who is always and forever our Father.