God gives and gives and gives and gives again. I am already anticipating the holiday season. I love that we savor that season as long as we can. We give thanks for the year and then we prepare our hearts to celebrate the Life who gives us life. We celebrate the birth of Jesus on Christmas Day and it’s such a beautiful time for our souls to pause and remember.

But God isn’t bound by our holiday season. He doesn’t stop giving when the season is over. He continues on just as He always has. Bestowing good gifts. Holding us in steadfast favor. Loving us fully and deeply. Pouring out mercy which never ends, but still begins again with every new morning. Weaving our every ordinary day in grace. Sewing our broken hearts with His nearness.

Our God goes on giving…on and on and on.

But here I am sitting in March. Feeling those pinpricks of discouragement. And then it overwhelms me. I’m sitting there saying, “I don’t know what I should do to turn my day around.” I don’t really pray or ask God for help. I just sit there wondering what on earth I am going to do to turn my Saturday around.

But God is grace and mercy and love and kindness.

We get hay for the goats. On our way back, I ask Ben if we can stop to pick some greenery by the side of the road before we get home. Ben is quick to oblige. And there standing in the dirt road, he snips off some manzanita blooms. Spring is coming. I am touching the promise. Everything in its season. Spring after winter. Every time.

And then I turn on the radio in our living room and “Thy Will” fills the spaces. I like this song, but I don’t think much of it just now. Later, as I am finishing laundry, I turn on the radio in our bedroom and before I am done folding, “Thy Will” plays again. I think about it this time.

“I know you see me. Your plans are for me.”

Your plans are for me. Your plans are for me. Your plans are for me.

Tears.

Surrender.

Relief.

I held the promise of spring in my hands, and then I experienced the beginning of a new kind of spring in my soul. God is kind. Always kind. And always kind to me.

Sunday comes. She says something like this, “We can rejoice right now, because God sees everything. He sees the good. The full picture. All He’s doing. He’s not confined to the view we have.” And sometimes, pain is all I can see. But God sees every last bit of all He’s doing. And it’s good and beautiful. It’s glorifying to Him and best for me.

Even so, God does not ignore me in my emotions of pain and heartache. God never laughs at me because I can only see the small picture, and He doesn’t rebuke me for crying at the picture I do see. He knows it’s hard. He knows it doesn’t make sense to me. He knows.

Instead of laughing or scorning, God says, Just see Me and trust me.

So I do. All over again.

My hope is not vain, and I will not be ashamed.

Sunday is still happening, and he’s talking about the Holy Spirit who indwells us–our Comforter, Teacher, and abundant, spiritual Life. Yes. I remember. I am literally and truly never alone. The Holy Spirit indwells me–Helper, Comforter, Life.

This is my reality.

Sunday evening, I stand outside. The much-anticipated sun is peeking out. I am standing in my life with all of Life alive within me. Enjoying myself. Happiness pops through that wintry surface in my heart. The roots are comfort and joy from the God of all comfort and joy.

And a woman who wrestled, I don’t know what to do to turn my day around, got a response from God.

Tidings of comfort and joy in March.

Peace that passes all understanding.

A reminder of this beautiful reality filled with the Holy Spirit, a kind God, good plans.

I held the promise of spring in my hands. Manzanita blooms. But I carry the promise of spring in my soul. Truth that overcomes. Always. Always. Always.

And my God seems to say,

I won’t just turn your day around. I’ll change your life. Your whole life.

So I pray.

I surrender.

And I sing,

This is my soul. Thank You for making it well.

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