what we are longing for

I can hear the rain as it stops to rest upon my window. A spring breeze tickles my curtains and the open window lets the songs of a robin waft in. I sit here reflecting on the winter and the blessing of spring. Though my Massachusetts days filled me with a great love for autumn, I believe springtime in the Midwest has again stolen my allegiance.

It’s funny, sometimes we don’t know what our hearts are longing for until we experience it. The trees are still brown and naked, and the grass is only slightly green, but the sweet songs of a bird promise that spring is being ushered in. I want to tell the birds, “I didn’t know I missed you so, but I am quite thankful you are back!”

And, the wind blows the curtains, and the bird keeps right on singing, and I just sit here marveling at the way God again is bringing life out of death.