Days of Gray

From where I sit in the morning and have my devotions, I can see out our living-room picture window and down to the neighborhood pond. For 8-9 months of the year it is a beautiful view; Spring flowers, Summer grass, Fall foliage - God's handiwork is a magnificent thing. Then there's winter. This morning I look out and see stark trees, skeletons of the once lush countryside; barren bushes and fading grass. The paper birch just outside the window reveals every little bird sprinting through its naked branches. Winter seems a lonely time, a time of waiting; of anticipation. It reminds me of Jesus' three days in the tomb.

I wonder when I read the gospel accounts of the crucifixion of Christ and His subsequent burial, what were the thoughts of the apostles. Ordinary men, fisherman, tax collector, shepherds; men not necessarily used to reasoning out the deep things of life. It must have seemed like a long "winter time". The waiting, the wondering, the talking in hushed tones, the questions. Suddenly there's a knock at the door and life blooms again.

There will come a day when I look out my window and see blossoms on the dogwood again. Until then, I wait in peaceful anticipation. Everything seems more more vibrant after days of gray anyway.