Awake

© Elise Grinstead 2013

The winter lades us bare…the branches have long forgone their leaves—sheltered their stems of life to preserve itself in the cold that lies ahead. The contrast of night and day are more stark, as one seems to end abruptly in the beginning of another—there is no melting transition in the setting of the sun and the warmth gradually conceding to slightly lower temperatures. The sinful condition seems more inherently recognized in myself, as I too, seem to be laid bare also. I tend to withdraw into more contemplative, solitary states, and sometimes the days feel as a sluggish trudging, one day after another as I await the days of longer light and warmth.

But, I too remember the fields of snow upon which the moonlight casts its glow, the blankets of freshness and provision over all that lies barren. In the presence of its stillness, I remember the purposes of the Father in creating such seasons. In all that can be depravity, in all that can be broken in this life—there is redemption, our sins once crimson covered and made as white as snow. The snow blankets and the moonlight shows what is pure—only that can be fully illuminated to show its beauty—not the shadows of the twisted branches and thirsty ground beneath.

Such pictures and reminders of grace.

I always long for spring. I long for the visual reminders of the hope I know to be true to be manifested—that there is life after death, a regeneration of what is new pushing forth what has been left behind. A pace that is measured, a process awakened by thawing and greater supply of light. That day after day, it may seem slow, yet it is in the perfect time for new life to come forth. I look at the stems, the buds, the breaking ground…I know that it is coming and it will soon be found.

I await. I awake.

That one week I walk under flowering trees, then the next under spring fresh leaves, then thereafter under deep green canopies—a reminder that there is growth in the midst of change. Some things once deemed cast off can once again be brought into what is now known as redeemed. There is indeed the promise of life after death, the revival after brokenness; the flourishing after barrenness.

So come, let us return to the Lord; for he has torn us, that he may heal us; he has struck us down, and he will bind us up….he will revive us…he will raise us up that we may live before him.

Let us know; let us press on to know the Lord; his going out is sure as the dawn; he will come to us as the showers, as the spring rains that water the earth.” Hosea 6:1-3

Such words and reminders of redemption.