Has your winter been harsh?
I think there are many of us in the U.S. that can agree that
this last winter was pretty stinky. Whether you live in the east, south, north
or west, we all saw weather conditions that just didn’t seem right.
Recently a writer friend challenged me to describe my winter
here in Colorado. Words such as bitter, desolate, never-ending, bleak, dark,
and stark came to mind.
Those words seemed flat, so I tried to include more
descriptive words to add some flavor. Freezing, ferocious, soaked, unyielding,
gloomy, dismal and forsaken seemed about right.
“Wait,” she said, “those sound more like words of mourning
than words of winter.”
“Is there a difference?”
“You tell me,” she answered.
Little did I know how she was leading me to see how my
winter season was really the winter I was feeling in my heart after losing my
mom.
Life changes.
April 1st is the time to begin pruning back the
dead stems of the rose bushes in Colorado. So I headed out to clean out my
front garden and clip off all the brown withered stalks of my roses as well as
clean out the dead foliage of my lilies and peonies.
Snipping away I found new rose shoots appearing many places.
Some were at the bottom of the bush, some along what looked like dead branches.
It was a reminder to me that not everything that looks dead remains that way.
Much like me. What a tough winter it has been. My mom died
on December 21st, the first day of the season of winter and my heart
entered a desolate time of its own. Since then the struggle to just move ahead
has been challenging at times. But with the onset of spring, I remember that
there is new life. New life for my mom and the promise of new life for me.
Over the past couple months I have been asked to talk with
people about science and faith and how they intertwine. Getting to share my
passion has been a good distraction for me. Then last week when I was thanking
our pastor for recommending me yet again for the same topic, he said, “Well, it
is your ministry.”
I never really thought about it like that. An interest, yes.
A passion, of course. But a ministry? Huh.
Then I started pruning those thorny bushes out front and saw
those new shoots. It was a reminder that though winter this year was the
roughest I’ve ever seen, new promise is revealed. Yes, I need to trim away the
dead parts of me…the hurt, the pain, and the consumption of chocolate (because
all the chocolate in the world won’t bring my mom back), there are still parts
of me that come back anew.
I shared so many things with my mom. And I thought the
science and faith passion we shared was one of those dead branches that needed
to be pruned back, lost forever. But no. What looks dead does not always remain
that way.
What an appropriate lesson for me to learn this week as we
enter the holiest time of the year, the death and resurrection of our Lord,
Jesus Christ. What looks dead WILL NOT remain dead.
Amen.
I am grateful to the Lord for such a visual reminder in
nature…in science.
6 comments:
Just beautiful. And true. And well written.
Thanks, Robbie!
Beautiful Loretta. I can't wait to see the flowers that come from this season in your life.
Hadn't thought about that, Danica. Thank you. Me too. :)
Lovely words and great insight. Bless you, Loretta.
Thanks, Megan. Bless you too!
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