Raindrops in the Ocean

I am actively jealous of all my cold-weather friends right now.

Spring begins in February.  After enduring bitter winds and snow and ice or the long, dry dead of winter, spring is beginning.  What was once a dismal grey forest is beginning to show hints of red and green in the bark as life returns to the tree.  The earth and the farmers know before the rest of us that the bitter chill is over.  The warming color will lead to buds on the tree that prove life really has returned.  Tiny green leaves and the earliest blossoms will poke through.  Each week a new wave of color and scent will greet the alert observer until summer’s branches unfurl their splendourous boughs.

That is, if I am remembering correctly.  I cannot witness the coming of spring like those of you entrenched in snow right now. And I am jealous.

Spring always finds me in the winters of my life, reminding me of God’s perfect timing, of His faithfulness, of new life.  The only other thing which speaks to me so powerfully of His consistency and patience is being in the ocean, learning the patterns of the waves.

I guess I need to learn to surf.

Does anyone know where I can find a wetsuit?