Its been raining forever. There has been no sun for at least a millennium. The ran comes and comes and comes. The soggy ground has been burdened to a point of frustration and is throwing a fit. The water sits, puddles and runs atop the earth. Not one more drop is being allowed to sink in. Still, the heavy clouds are relentless. Its as though they are squeezing each other like uncut sponges, determined to get every drop of the wet out. They mush each other and then roll away behind the mountains, leaving behind the slosh and slush and muddy wreck of what should be Spring.
My couch has two recliners in it. When I sit at my favorite end, coffee cup in hand and computer on my extended leg lap, I can watch the world out my French doors. The color of the pine trees remains steady in the relentless wet, but my snow browned grass has begun to green up in the rain sea of my back yard. The daffodils have raised up and defied the clouds with upturned yellow cups catching up the drops of rain. Soon the tulips will sprout and dot the edges of the yard with a rainbow. The returning color is resisting the struggle.
In the gloom, the color longs to sparkle
I too long for the sun. I miss those glorious rays of early morning light that pierce my old pines and strike my world with their warmth. The light, when it brightens my so oft darkened house, lifts my soggy countenance.
I am so done with these days. They are reflective of my heart. The winter has been long and soggy in many ways. It has been a struggle to move forward and to catch those moments of glory when the light of God shines on my soul and lifts me up to his presence and perspective.
Always, when those moments come, I see that changes are indeed near. The God of light does not leave us in gloom any more than the rains of spring. The rain will cease. So will the difficulties. God will burn off the clouds of struggle and the Son will radiate.
Its been forever and I am desperate to live in the changes I see coming. I have been in a gloomy place too long and, I, like the flowers outside my French doors, will defy it by rising up in spite of it.
Like my spring blossoms, I want to sparkle.