Waiting for Spring

“I remain confident of this: I will see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living. Wait for the Lord; be strong and take heart and wait for the Lord.”

Psalm‬ ‭27:13-14‬ ‭

Before our last winter of waiting, I planted fifty daffodil bulbs. I kneeled on my hands and knees, digging holes deep, my fingers sinking into the cool soil, a therapeutic balm of sorts. As I broke earth, I prayed, hoping that this would be our last waiting winter. Little did I know that the approaching season would be my darkest one yet. Darkness so heavy, pressing in on every side. Finally, when the spring blossoms were nearly fading and the warmer days were upon us, God made a way. After such a long wait, Hope was coming home!

Daffodil shoots are now beginning to sprout from the still cold and broken earth. Their yellow smiling faces proclaiming and reminding me that a new day has come, new life and hope blooming bright in this place.

Our long winter of waiting has come to an end yet waiting never seems to really end, not this side of Heaven. The tension between the here and now and the not yet glory of our promised eternity, this is our current reality. In this tension, I find myself often restless, weary and worn, waiting in big and small ways. There is a constant undercurrent, a yearning for things unseen.

In mothering a daughter from a hard place, I am learning that it is a slow process of healing and forming healthy attachments. Hope is still unsure of what a mother is, uncertain what a family looks like. She is building her trust gradually, one step forward, two steps back.

At times, she is receptive to my affection and at other times she pushes me away. I’ve been surprised at how emotionally trying this process has been. How raw and vulnerable I feel. I do my best to hold on to the sweet cuddly moments, trying not to let the times when she pushes away effect me too deeply. She has come so far yet fear constantly creeps in and grips me. I wonder, will she ever fully trust, allowing herself to love and be loved.

Just in the last week, Hope has begun to call me her own version of Mama. Every now and then, I’ll pick her up, she’ll cuddle in, gently patting my back or touching my face and she’ll say, “A-Ma, A-Ma”. I have waited so long to hear her say this, a small yet mighty name, packed with so much meaning. In this simple act, I know that she is beginning to understand my love for her and the place I hold in her world. These sacred moments cause me to pause, my heart soaking it in yet sinking a bit, thinking to myself, “Oh, daughter of mine, how long you’ve waited for me.”

We each wait for Spring in one way or another. We watch for signs of new life and  brighter tomorrow’s. We hope in things in the not yet future. We pray for healing, a God-sized miracle.This is the tension we must embrace. Our hope not resting in only what we can see but in that which is unseen.

One thing I do know for certain, I am not alone in my waiting. There is One who sits with me in the tension, holding me in the balance, gripping me tight against the undercurrent. He goes before me, preparing the way. Bringing forth new life and beauty from the wounded deep and buried dark places in my heart. The difficult and impossible relationships in need of mending.  The desires and the aspirations not yet realized by those whom I love most. He sees and knows the deepest stirrings of my heart.

Jesus is at work in the waiting. The seasons are turning, buds of hope unfurling for the waiting, watchful eye. Spring is on it’s way!

“Therefore we do not lose heart. Though outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day. For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all. So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen, since what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal.”

2 Corinthians‬ ‭4:16-18‬ ‭