Tuesday, October 4, 2011

We Shall Have Spring Again

I don't know where it came from. Just a numbing sadness.

It settled down soundlessly and grew in depth throughout the day.

I couldn't even seem to pray, too weak to ask for His help.

All the truth I know could not shake the winter that had dropped silent, cold and lonely on my spirit.

And I read emails. Others were struggling too. And such pain whispered and screamed across the screen in friend updates... and that sweet fellow soccer mom at practice... and more.

And though the weather is beautiful, the children laughing, and the blessings overflowing... the soul winter remained.



I read it after the little girl growing so tall pleaded with bright eyes and a hopeful smile... the next chapter in this story she already knows the end to...

It's winter. And never Christmas. And the children have an enemy who is determined to hunt them down and turn them to stone to keep what's long been promised from being fulfilled. A brother is choosing the enemy's side, and works against them, betraying their love and relationship for the sake of perceived gain.

But they feel it even there, even as strangers in a world not their home, the power and the promise and the hope at the sound of His great name. 

"Wrong will be right, when Aslan comes in sight,
At the sound of his roar, sorrows will be no more,
When he bares his teeth, winter meets its death,
And when he shakes his mane, we shall have spring again."
~C.S. Lewis

And she has to know, heart wide open and wondering as fall creeps in ever cooler through her open window... will it be like that? Will God come back in the winter time? And make it spring again? 

I smooth down wild curls and they bounce right back, child all framed by this untamed, resilient beauty. "No one knows what day or time or year... but when He comes, and He is coming, spiritual winter will meet its death." 

She nods a fierce kind of grinning excitement. Yes. Of course. And she is fearless and ready to fight all that stands opposed... as bold as a Lion.

Then we whisper it in prayers together in the cold dark, the Name that fans the flame to a roaring fire inside this child that I am... "Lord Jesus..."

Her eyes close to accept rest but her mouth can't stop smiling.

And I think I see the way through these thick, cry-muffling woods and cold that I keep sinking into. One step at a time. One word. I can say that one word. 


It's the best prayer I've prayed in days. 

And I think about Him coming... with a loud command, with the voice of the archangel and with the trumpet call of God...

And I say His name and recognize Him here... near. 


And maybe you too can squeeze it out past all that's choking in your throat and spirit?... Jesus. 

At the sound of his roar, sorrows will be no more,
When he bares his teeth, winter meets its death,
And when he shakes his mane, we shall have spring again.

"No one is like you, O LORD; you are great, and your name is mighty in power."
~Jeremiah 10:6 

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