Like all of creation, it is easy to see a spiritual side of things here. I have been thinking about these last few years, about how we should be having hope, how this is not the plan God has designed for us, and numerous truths people have spoken to and over us. I pondered how hard it is to believe that good will come, that better days are ahead, when in the midst of a cold, shadowy winter.
Why is it so easy to eagerly await the arrival of Spring, even though it may still be snowing for some of the days, yet so difficult to even remotely see the "spring" of our lives? Am I the only one here? The seasons were designed by the Creator. We know how they should go. We know what order they go in. We know what to expect (for the most part). Yet in life, our 'seasons' continue to stay winter. We primarily see the bad...not even looking for the good God wants for us. Shouldn't we eagerly be awaiting the "Spring" God has for our lives, and know without a doubt that it will come---therefore that we should be excited for it?!
Obviously, this brought my mind to Ecclesiates 3:1-8 "A Time for Everything", and I have decided to revise it for my own personal use. Maybe it's been done before, I don't know. Ultimately the phrase I came up with to add into each "time" was "...because I am." Simply that. Because HE is, there is a time for death, a time for birth. Simply because my Creator designed it as such.
If my belief system says that God is God, Jesus, and the Holy Spirit, then my beliefs say that I must be encouraged. So that's what I am going to do. I am going to mourn in the seasons of cold, miserable, 'winter', yet at the same time KNOW that there will be a 'spring' coming--and eagerly await it.
This isn't the most eloquent of writings, not to mention quite repetitive, and fairly muddled. But it makes sense to me. If I can trust that my God knew what He was doing in creation, then I can trust that it is a direct parallel to my life.
Wrong will be right, when Aslan comes in sight,At the sound of his roar, sorrows will be no more,When he bares his teeth, winter meets its death,And when he shakes his mane, we shall have spring again.