Really, I should be writing something about spring. According to my official Farmer’s Almanac calendar, it is upon us today. But here in Michigan, we’re having a hard time buying it.
Really, though, I do feel a bit uplifted today. Despite the snow flying about my face and my truck thermometer that is surely receiving an errant weather transmission from Fairbanks, my spirit says the wait is almost over. Mind you, I love the change in seasons that my Michigan offers, but this is the change I look forward to the most.
Spring is a time of rebirth. Yes, I said it. Cliche done and approved. Let’s move on. That’s such a popular phrase because it’s true. I don’t believe the originator had tulips and fawns in mind, though. It is truly a rebirth of the spirit.
As I’ve grown in my faith, I’ve come to understand that God designed nature as a reflection of our inner spirits, or vice-versa. We go through seasons, storms, calm, and periods of drought in life just as nature experiences fluctuations in temperament.
As God designed nature with a promise of rejuvenation and an end to winter, we must always be reminded that our own seasons of dark days and long nights are temporary. How often I’ve read about a young man or woman who ended their life because they just couldn’t go on in the darkness that consumed them. I want to scream, “It will end! If you had only held on for a few more days or weeks, you would have seen the light!”
As Christian, or even as humans, it is our duty to be the light bearers to those in darkness, struggling through the ‘winter of their discontent.” I’m not only talking about the light of Christ, we all seem to understand that requirement of our faith. I speak of a basic duty to guide our neighbor through their overcast days, even if it requires us to hold them by the hand every step of the way, until they can again stand on their own in the light.
Most of the time, it takes very little. The source of your light may be a smile, a kind word, a note to ask how they are. It’s so easy to be a blessing and a light, it makes me wonder why so few are doing it. I have two children. My daughter is recently graduated and my son is a junior. I’ve told them to always be ready with a smile or kind word to that kid who seems to have no friends, the outcast, who is probably going through his or her season of darkness at a very young age, when we are least equipped to handle it.
“A smile and a ‘good morning’ can save a life,” dad likes to say.
So in the coming days or weeks, depending on your latitude, when you step outside to feel the first warm rays of sunshine on your face, think about those who are still wandering in the darkness, seeing no hope on the calendar. Offer them a bit of light. Be the spring in their step.