The month of March can be fickle.
Some days bring the cold winds in, and our cozy, knitted scarves back out.
Others are dappled with sunshine, the warm breezes beckoning us to the out of doors.
These are the days that are filled with discovery ~ what feats of nature lie beneath the dormant grasses? What falling branch will rouse the sleeping animals in the forest?
When you live on the water, there are new and wonderful things to see at this time of year.
How do we really know that spring will come?
What is our assurance that soon the warmer breezes will usher in the greens of the season? That woolen sweaters need go into hiding, while cottons and linen make their debut in our wardrobe once again.
Experience.
For so many years of our childhood, we celebrate the changing of the seasons.
We recognize them in visual portraits.
Frozen hues of gray and the washes of indigo in winter. In springtime we see shades of green and the spilling of pink into blossom. Summer bursts forth brilliant blues and fiery, geranium reds. Autumn elicits the warmth of sienna ~ the aroma of cocoas and chestnut browns.
We hear them in words and phrases.
“In like a lion, and out like a lamb.” or “April showers bring May flowers.”
Little sayings that we are taught from the times we are small.
We observe.
Let’s consider spring…
We note the gradual tendencies of light in transition, the changing angles as it shines differently than it did yesterday, across the kitchen floor. The subtleties of change that culminate in a beautiful crescendo of texture and color after raindrops fall, earth warms, and hope emerges in new life.
We can look for little things ~
Melodious sounds of robins and cardinals at the tops of trees, singing their new warbling songs.
The soft, and tender soil tousled by a mole burrowing in dark and dampened tunnels below ground.
Perhaps we notice the sun rising earlier, slowly illuminating the treetops as it creeps over the horizon ~ engaging the maples in their annual offerings of sap, to make syrup.
Near the water, the geese are pairing up, wings swiftly whistling overhead in the afternoon sky. Papas stand guard ~ watching for predators, while mama quietly lines her nest with warmth and feathers, soft.
We know that the seasons happen, because we have seen them in all of their splendor.
Over and over, and over again.
…
So, too, it is with our faith.
In the youth of our relationship with Christ, we are overridden with doubts and uncertainties. The mustard seed can seem faint in its ability to sprout as we are seemingly unable to master a sense of conviction.
But in time, we have more opportunities to see God at work in our lives.
We see His love and promise come to life in others in our community. We hear stories of friends and loved ones, sharing their wisdom and knowing ~ of how Jesus is calling them into a love relationship.
God knows our hearts.
In the early years of my faith, He knew that presentations of His presence needed to be big, loud, and a wee bit more on the dramatic side (understatement). Since I wasn’t aware of how to see His works, those lightning bolt and burning bush types of events seemed better ways of capturing my attention.
Later, as my awareness grew, I became more cognizant of little things. I could see the less obvious events and situations, suggesting a more subtle recognition of God’s sovereign hand in our lives.
To see Him best, we have to keep our eyes open and be keenly aware of things.
Ephesians 1:18
I pray that your hearts will be flooded with light so that you can understand the confident hope he has given to those he called–his holy people who are his rich and glorious inheritance.
On my journey, I’ve been caught many times, with my eyes closed ~ avoiding, panicking, and trying desperately to get off of the ride.
But God holds our hands, and He holds our hearts.
He did that for me when I prayed about the desperate situation of my marriage. He held my hand and gave me strength. He held my heart and gave me clarity…
Putting a coherent flow of words to the experience of an alcoholic marriage is difficult for me.
The years spent in that season of my life bring thoughts of confusion and chaos. Twisted images and angry hearts. Frigid angst and choking bitterness. Tired and crumpled souls lying paralyzed and poised to blow completely away in the next wind of argument.
Looking back, it seems a blur of emotion. A grappling for grounding.
…
I had asked God what to do.
The days were long with work and the weighted silence of hatred between us. My sweet Louise was in the midst of it all…not knowing that one day soon her world was going to come crashing down. I was so busy wrapped up in my own pain and fear of the prospect of such a dramatic life change, that it wasn’t until years later, when the dust finally settled, that I began to imagine the tremendous sense of loss that her little heart had to bear.
It was probably a week before I ended up telling him to leave.
Things had been careening toward a canyon-sized crevasse in our marriage. The tension was palpable and unease seemed to seep into every space. Everything seemed gray. I felt numb. All I could do was pray for direction. Hoping that despite my exhaustion, I would be able to hear God’s still small voice. I had to keep walking into this disquieted place. Into the fear. Into the uncertainty.
He answered.
Around 7:30 that autumn evening, I was getting my dear Emma ready for bed as I always did. She smiled her adorable little smile. I asked her what she wanted to read that night. “My Bible stories, Mommy!” On her bedside table she had a basket of favorite bedtime reading material. Board books with stars and stories of baby animals. But the book most often pulled from that basket was her Jesus Storybook Bible.
The passages were easy to read. There were sweet pictures ~ drawings of people from the Bible, story after story of God’s redemption and His caring for us here in this world.
That’s what I needed. Page after page of simple Truth, and His promise of comfort.
“You see, no matter what, in spite of everything, God would love His children ~ with a Never Stopping, Never Giving Up, Unbreaking, Always and Forever Love.”
That night I let Emma choose the story from her Bible that she wanted to hear.
God used her to catch my attention and to hush my breaking heart.
She chose the story of Exodus.
Do you know the one? The story of how God rescued His people from oppression and took them to a land of safety.
God was whispering His love to me that night.
With my sweet, precious daughter sleeping in my arms, He had plans for us. He was letting me know that He would care for us and show me the way.
I was thinking of that time in my life while I was out in my kayak this afternoon. Seeing the parallels.
The March winds begin to blow and waves begin to rise. Although it seems counter intuitive, I have learned through repeated experience, that it is best to paddle straight into the waves. This keeps my boat steady.
…
Likewise, during the course of the breaking of our marriage all those years ago, I had to paddle straight into the fear. I had to trust that God’s arms were open wide and awaiting me on the shore.
My job was to keep my eyes on Him, knowing that He would lead me to safety.
Not just a static sense of security, but He had a purpose and a plan. One that would move in rhythm with the coming seasons of my life.
He would redeem those chaotic months that pierced my heart, and bled my strength.
That plan was for me to learn another step in surrender, and to rely on Him in all things.
Once again, He drew me closer in our relationship. Teaching me that even in my desperate and broken places, He never leaves me. Staying close to Him, I find a place of peace.
A place of still waters.
Greater than the confidence that spring will arrive, these experiences build my faith.
The emotional, physical, and spiritual challenges I face bring me to a heart centered in gratitude. If you would have asked me 10 years ago if I was grateful for alcoholism in my life, I would have questioned your intention.
Today, however, I can see that through this darkened season I learned my greatest lesson of this life ~
complete and utter dependence on Christ.
In turn, I have been lovingly persuaded into His embrace, learning more of who He truly is and who He is creating me to be.
…
You learn to pay attention to where the wind is coming from, and make your way toward the shoreline. You start to develop that steady recognition. Like our knowledge that spring will always return, we can know for certain, to the very core of our being, that God is good and wondrous!
He is pursuing our adult hearts, as well, with a Never Stopping, Never Giving Up, Unbreaking, Always and Forever Love.
And as He shows me time and time again, my faith grows so that I can rest in this beautiful, all-consuming breath of peace and knowing.
Happy spring!
My Sweet Louise 
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