STEP ONE: BREATHE

Take a deep, cleansing breath. Allow the air to fill your lungs and expand your body. Exhale and empty yourself into the room. Repeat three times - once for the one who Created you, once for the Incarnate One who walks beside you, and once for the Spirit whose life fills your being.

STEP TWO: DWELL IN WORD

Transforming the Yard: Winter’s Sleep

Imagine that it is early April. Even in northern climes, there is a reasonable expectation for spring to be in the air and on the ground. Crocus and daffodils ought to be making their appearance. We ought to be seeing little hints of color and life awakening from slumber—but not this year. Looking out the window, I see a backyard covered with snow. A thick and massive drape of white covers all surfaces. The delights and mysteries of spring are hidden below.

All backyard activity—other than the building of snowmen and a raucous snowball fight—is put on hold. In a manner that is unseasonal, we wait for the seasons to catch up. We wait for temperatures to rise and snow to melt. We yearn for forces beyond our control, outside of our timing, to move of their own accord. There is nothing for us to do but wait and dream.

Gazing upon the snow-covered deck, I see cushion-less chairs stacked together. A smile comes to my face as I think about sitting on the comfy cushions and holding my warm coffee mug in hand. Wisps of steam rise from the full-bodied liquid to meet the rising of sun in the background. In bathrobe and pajamas, I will receive the gift of a new day. I will soon hear the buzz of hummingbirds as they siphon up the colorful, sugary nectar in the feeder, which is now packed away in a storage bin. I might even turn on the fountain or fire table to add additional stimuli to my backyard experience. Fire, water, sun—these things are primal, foundational. I yearn for the sound of a crackle and a trickle. I long to smell the awakening of a new day while holding a warm ceramic cup in my hands.

Looking at the snow-covered yard, I can barely make out the edge of a raised vegetable garden plot. It won’t be long until we are able to turn the ground over. Hand tools will eventually break the crust of the soil’s winter nap. My wife Katie and I will add rich compost, made from transformed table scraps, to the dark dirt. Everything will be ready for proper planting—more anticipation.

Tress adorned by snow on their branches appear so bare to me. Still, it won’t be long until leaves bud and grow. The deciduous woods will come alive again with a thick coat of green providing shelter and shade. Critters great and small will find refuge and food in this space. This critter looks forward to watching the sunlight shimmer as it meanders through the woods.

Dreaming and yearning and waiting are all a part of our lives with God. The changing of the seasons reminds us that instant gratification is the fabrication of an impatient and rebellious creation. According to God’s design, life has patterns, rhythms, and seasons. We must wait for timing that lies beyond our control. There is a need for patience. Anticipation bubbles up within for what is to come. We are invited to take a deep breath. Breathe and trust in God’s infallible track record to bring about new life in God’s own time.

STEP THREE: PRAY

Gracious God, as the seasons turn, I long for the rebirth of life. I yearn for new growth and blossums outside my window and inside my soul. Refresh me with springtime freshness. Fill me with the joy of resurrected life that I might praise Your name and delight in your renewing presence. Through Jesus Christ, Amen.