Up here in the North Country, the Earth is still frozen. Ice and snow are thick on our drive-ways and by-ways. Our paths are treacherous. Our patience is thin. We’re longing for spring. And, yet, before we see the first blooms of tulips and smell the fragrance of lilacs, we must endure the spring thaw.
I’m from the Red River Valley of the North. As I mentioned in my molecule post, this river flows north. The spring thaw is a huge threat. As the river ice melts, it has nowhere to go. As the snow becomes water, it flows out, but not away, it pools in low lands and fields and farms. It becomes the enemy and your instincts for fight or flight kick in. My parents, sister and husband stayed on the farm and fought…and somehow won the battle of the flood of 2009. My best writer-mama-pal fled to my house. I’m preparing floor space and heart space right now. The snowbanks are high. The ice is thick. Danger is looming. And, yet, we long for spring.
I see barriers in relationships like the frozen ground all around me. Although people long for deep, intimate relationships, they remain in a frozen state. It’s easier, they think, to stay cold and form ice sculptures on their exteriors that look “all good.” And, yet, they long for the spring thaw. What if, the warmth of friendship started to melt that ice? What if, God blew the fire of his love into our hearts and we began to thaw?
Darkness, death, suffering all come before the dawn of Easter morning when the lilies are in bloom. The sun warms our faces, and we feel joy in God’s deep, intimate relationship. Jesus walks that dark path with us. He knows our every pain, our every joy, and our deepest longing. He wants us to have deep, intimate relationships. What does that feel like? I suspect it’s like longing for spring, despite the fear of the flood.
Journaling Prompt: What are your deepest longings? How do you remain frozen? What if your heart started to melt?