Every moment the patches of green grew bigger and the patches of snow grew smaller. Every moment more and more of the trees shook off their robes of snow. Soon, wherever you looked, instead of white shapes you saw the dark green of firs or the black prickly branches of bare oaks and beeches and elms. Then the mist turned from white to gold and presently cleared away altogether. Shafts of delicious sunlight struck down onto the forest floor and overhead you could see a blue sky between the tree-tops.
– The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe
As I drove home from the grocery store today, rain spattered
the fog-framed windshield. Remnants of
snow on neighborhood lawns melded with puddles forming along the curb. My mind wandered to the scene in CS Lewis’s The
Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe where the forever winter is beginning to
surrender to spring. Narnia was locked
into winter for years and years. What
would it have been like to see the color green peek through the snow
again? What would it have been like to
hear running water? What would it have
felt like to have warm sun rays on your skin?
For some, it was a hope fulfilled.
For others, maybe they’d given up hope long ago and reconciled
themselves to a life of winter.
Winter has settled into parts of my life in a Narnia way. There are struggles that are so much a part of
me that I wouldn’t know myself without them.
I wish I could be transformed in a moment; that God would simply remove
all my addictions and failings. I
believe He can and sometimes does work that way. Sometimes though, He brings new growth like
melting snow.
It was significant that I thought of this Narnia scene as I
was coming from the grocery store. I
have a problem with using sugar to get through my day. Entrenched in years of habitual comfort
eating, I hold to a spark of hope and keep getting up when I fall. Today, I realized that spring is coming to
this area of my life. I walked past the
chocolate chips in the store probably three times. I told myself if they were on sale, I’d get
them. I told myself they were for my son
Luke. I told myself I’d only eat a few
each day. And, in the end, I walked out
of the store without them. That’s a
patch of green grass. That’s a little
warm sun allowing me to breathe more deeply.
Total freedom isn’t here yet, but it is coming.
Instead of thinking things will never change, I’m going to watch
for buds on the trees. Those buds will eventually
turn into flowers. These places in my
life, frozen and bleak, are under the power of God – my Aslan king. In fact, the Bible has song about this very thing.
Song of Songs 2:11-13 New International Version (NIV)
11 See! The winter is past;
the rains are over and gone.
12 Flowers appear on the earth;
the season of singing has come,
the cooing of doves
is heard in our land.
13 The fig tree forms its early fruit;
the blossoming vines spread their fragrance.
Arise, come, my darling;
my beautiful one, come with me.”
I'm going to be okay with things changing slowly. The process is beautiful and delightful in its own way. Today, I'm resting in God's timing and watching for little signs that my winter spots are surrendering to His spring.
