Spring has been slow in coming this year. Winter has lingered far beyond its welcome.

There have been days, weeks even, when it seemed that perhaps this year, spring would not return.

I’ve resented the freezing temperatures and the need for sweaters, wool socks, gloves, and coats.

I’ve been ready to move on for weeks. I don’t wait well. 

Waiting exposes my doubt.

It reveals my impatience and my proclivity to control what I cannot control. 

But then, finally, there’s a subtle shift in the scent of the breeze.

The sun reaches into rooms that have been far too dark, for far too long. 

Buds swell. Rain replaces snow and drips off the leaves. 

Trees explode in pinks, reds, greens, and yellows. 

What was drab becomes extravagant.

Spring returns, not because of my prayers or my faith.

It comes because He is faithful. 

In all things. At all times.

Photos were shot in Harvard, MA. (All rights reserved.) 

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