Old Leaves
I live in a latitude that is just on the cusp of spring, but winter is still holding on with a vice-grip of gray ugliness. At first glance, when I look in my flower beds or at the patches of grass, all I see is dead things left over from last summer: ragged leaves, jagged stems, and faded blooms.
With everything going on in the world right now (pandemic, stay-at-home orders, etc.), it’s hard not to feel like we are stuck in a perpetual season of winter: a time of grief with only last season’s faded blooms and gray leaves to dream of.
However, when I gently pull away the dead foliage, I often discover a surprise of green that is quietly coming to life, even in the midst of the cold, dark days of winter. A good gardener knows that clearing away these old leaves is the best thing you can do to encourage new life. Dead foliage blocks out sunlight and nutrients from reaching new seedlings and new growth. Letting go of the old growth is the only way for new life to flourish.
This picture of rebirth from death is a poignant reminder every spring, but this year it has hit me especially hard. There are a lot of ragged leaves, jagged stems, and faded blooms that we are all grieving in this time of quarantine and social distancing. Many things that brought beauty and color to our life are gone … at least for a time.
But I believe there is a promise of life beneath the grief.
How will I use this season of winter that is gripping our world right now? God has challenged me to look for those dead things in my life that He will help me gently clear away in order create new space for life. Comforts or addictions I didn’t even realize I had. Control that I thought I wielded over myself and the world around me. Passive behaviors that were so easily overlooked. What will happen in my identity, in my relationship with others, and my relationship with God as I clear these old things away?
My hope is in my Savior and the spring he promises that will always come after winter, as I am promised in Song of Songs 2:10-13:
The one I love calls to me:
Arise, my dearest. Hurry, my darling.
Come away with me!
I have come as you have asked
to draw you to my heart and lead you out.
For now is the time, my beautiful one.
The season has changed,
the bondage of your barren winter has ended,
and the season of hiding is over and gone.
The rains have soaked the earth
and left it bright with blossoming flowers.
The season for singing and pruning the vines has arrived.
I hear the cooing of doves in our land,
filling the air with songs to awaken you
and guide you forth.
Can you not discern this new day of destiny
breaking forth around you?
The early signs of my purposes and plans
are bursting forth.
The budding vines of new life
are now blooming everywhere.
The fragrance of their flowers whispers,
“There is change in the air.”
Arise, my love, my beautiful companion,
and run with me to the higher place.
For now is the time to arise and come away with me.
What “dead leaves” can I think of in my own life?
Do I have a sense of what God would like me to do during this time? What is He inviting me into?
What promise does the image of spring hold for me? What picture or phrase can I hold on to when despair tries to deaden my soul?