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?
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Wow. You took me on a real roller coaster ride of emotions in this short post. I felt God-joy from your quote, apprehension and sorrow from your middle, and hope from your ending. I think I need a nap now. 🙂
Beautiful post, Mary.
Napping is a gift from God. Take one and enjoy. And, thank you for the wonderful comment (again you’re the winner at speedy reading and responding!!!). I feel inspired.
Fear keeps me frozen many times instead of taking that step forward. But I’m learning.
Mother Nature has so many lessons to teach us, if we pay attention. Her parallels to our lives are crystal clear … from the thawing of frozen hearts, to the calm before the storm, to the sun always rising. Nature’s a great place to look for insights on the journey we’re making.
Catherine, I, too, have been frozen by fear.
Well said, Joanne!
I am finding that I can be in both seasons at the same time, if not all four. There sits the ampersand on my window to remind me of the AND in my life, instead of the black and white. I can be frozen in fear as Catherine, springing into new life after finding a new part of my inner self, peaceful in the summer sun, and yet pruning off the old within ALL this very moment.
Mary, you are great at starting a discussion!
Thank you, JeMA for your creative inspiration. May you find yourself in a peaceful summer season.
I have an award for you on my Saturday post. 🙂
Joanne said it so beautifully how Nature has much to teach us. Fear manipulates to hitch a ride on life’s journeys but inner faith and the will to see the tulips bloom helps melt the ice that freezes hearts. Oh, Mary, I agree…you have a wonderful topic of discussion here. You’re so intuitive! Write on!
Well said, Mary. The longing for deep and intimate connection is universal, yet most stuck in a frozen state, disconnected and lonely.
In addition to fear, maybe past hurt, pride, ego, and inability to express and communicate?
God’s fire and power are definitely needed to melt down everything.
Yes, Qin, all those things freeze us up, but there is always hope for spring.
Another beautiful post, Mary. Doubt freezes me and envy, I guess, too. Seeing good happen to others and not really believing it will ever come to me. Sigh. (Can you tell my Lenten practice is to be more honest?)
BTW, I have a little gift for you on my blog.
Laurel, I hope you thaw from your fears. It’s good to live in the light and be honest.
Thanks for the gift.