Saturday morning had a dreary beginning. After a week of arctic cold, moderate weather returned with rain, stringing together days of endless hues of gray. You know, it's the kind of drizzly, dreadful monotony that seasonal depression is made of.
Driving home from the gym that morning, I caught a glimpse of the parting sky - the first glimpse of radiant blue I'd seen in so long. Within hours, all the clouds had dissipated and the sun was shining brightly. The temperature rose up into the sixties and we headed to the park... along with throngs of others.
It was a beautiful glimpse of the Spring that is to come right here in the middle of winter.
Today, the sky is gray again. The rain is returning. The temperatures are falling.
We endure the gloom for the hope of the glory; the winter for the hope of the Spring.
And in every season of our lives, no matter how dark or how desperate, He gives us glimpses of new seasons yet to come.
If only we'll look for them.
If only we will have the eyes to see.
For I am about to do something new.
See, I have already begun! Do you not see it?
I will make a pathway through the wilderness.
I will create rivers in the dry wasteland.