The earth is still and silent
in the hush of winter.
Cocooned in a blanket
of frost, fog
and certainty,
it rests and waits,
knowing
the sun will turn warm,
seeds will sprout,
and life will come again
as it always has.
And I,
while waiting for change,
for answers,
for dreams realized
am so far from comfortable.
Restless,
alternately hoping and dreading.
An internal argument
swirling in my mind.
Push or submit.
Fight or rest.
Wondering if I've done all I can do.
A pit in my stomach
and a longing in my heart.
But even so,
eternity is written on my soul,
and I can't help but hope
for good answers
and wishes come true..
And sweet rest comes when I remember
the One
who knows all the answers,
who knows what's around the bend.
Yes, even planned these things
for my good and his glory.
The One
who does all things well.
I inhale the cold air,
admire the barren trees,
and avoid the mud puddles,
quieting my heart,
renewing my strength.
Learning to trust
in the season of waiting.
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