Springtime and thunderstorms

Credit: Unknown

Listening to: "He Said" by Group 1 Crew
(Not usually a huge fan of theirs, but I seriously love this song. It's been stuck in my head for days. It's so catchy!)

(Quick sidenote: I wrote this post awhile back and am just now getting around to publishing it. I'll try to update you guys on what's been going on with me lately ASAP!)

I read something the other day that really stood out to me.

"Spring is for tornadoes and rainstorms as much as it’s for brilliant afternoons and bulbs poking fresh petals through damp dirt."*

Remember back in October when I wrote about autumn and the interesting balance of beauty and pain and how you can't have one without the other? At the time, the point I was trying to make was that pain always brings about a special kind of beauty that can be found nowhere else. Now, I'm beginning to see the other side of it as well.

When I think of spring, I tend to think of the happy, sunny side of things. It's when everything is coming back to life, when I can go outside and throw Frisbee and lay in hammocks, when it's warm and green and just beautiful. Everyone always talks about "waiting for spring" in a metaphorical sense, referring to life, waiting to come out of a painful situation and experience the good, happy side of life again.

We forget that even spring isn't all about the sunshine.

Spring is all about new growth and change and coming to life. And that happens to require a few thundershowers along the way. Yes, the most most difficult part--the dying that comes with autumn and winter--has passed. Still, spring has its own kind of pain, the kind that can only come with coming back to life after a long winter.

I'm finding that every season of life has its own kind of pain--or at least it should. Some runs deeper than the rest, but still: it is all pain. Pain, to me, is a sign of growth. If I am changing, growing, becoming, then pain is going to be an inevitable part of that.

Learning to truly love someone is hard.
Learning to accept grace and His blessings after realizing how much I don't deserve them is hard.
Learning to not stop seeking Him first, amidst the busyness of all He's given is hard. It shouldn't be, but it is.

They're good things, all of them. But they are not easy.

Spring isn't always easy. But the beauty of it is always worth it.

So here's to accepting spring for what it is: rain showers, sunshine, flowers, and a little bit of dirt. It's all necessary for the incredible growth that it continues to bring.

*From Sarah Markley's "The Brilliant Beckoning" at (in)courage