The other day, I sat down at the desk in my craft room. It is one of my favorite spots in our house. The desk is up against the window, so when I look out I see the big tree in our front yard and I feel as though I'm sitting in a tree house. What a vantage point! While my lap top booted up, I glanced out and was startled by what I saw. The tree limbs were full of green leaves, budding and blooming. How did this happen? The last time I looked out there the limbs were still barren, reflecting the lingering winter. How is it that seasons had turned without me realizing the transformation?

I sat and pondered this, and immediately my mind went to this beautiful song by Nichole Nordeman called Every Season. Such a poignant song, summarizing the seasons of our life. I have often felt the sting of winter in my life. Most of my college years were like the long dark night of winter, void of light and hope, cold and nearly unbearable. I was at the beginning of a grief journey, stunned by the pain and the sadness. Or, the year long endeavor to start our family, which began with the lost hope of a baby because of a miscarriage. I felt barren and empty, unsure that my wishes and dreams would ever bloom and grow. And, then there was the very deep pit of post partum depression. A dim and bleak place to be sure. I barely functioned for a few months, cloaked in the murky feeling that the gloom and fog might never lift.

Yet in those winters in my life, I was eventually surprised by spring. It happened without me realizing that the changing of the seasons was in progress. Just as I sat at my desk this week noticing that winter was over. In those dark seasons of my life, hope sprang anew when one day, I noticed green leaves where I once saw barren limbs. God was doing a new thing, and faithfully walking me through the storms. It wasn't until I sat in silence that I noticed the winds had stopped howling. It is the promise of Isaiah 43:19: