Why I Love Spring

Amazing how experiences can change your perspective.

I've always been a "Fall Girl." I love Autumn. The changing leaves. The crisp chill in the air. The faint whisper of the coming holidays all fill me with excitement and a love for being outside.

But then, April 2001 happened. My precious Buddy-Man was born - 4 days late (he was due on Easter Sunday). And as I entered that Spring with this new precious life in my arms, I began to see Springtime in an entirely new light. I saw the budding trees differently. I watched as flowers bloomed and baby bunnies scampered through the field. I was in awe of the new life all around me...and in my arms.

Two years ago, Springtime once again changed my perspective; my life.

Sitting on my porch, wrapped in the arms of my First Love, my fears over provision and the future overwhelmed me. Uncertainty over what was going to happen to me swallowed me whole. How could I survive this pain? How can I face each day alone? And if I did survive this, how could I provide for my family? Drowning in debt, fears, lies, attacks. Worry.

And then one morning, it happened. Sitting in silence for a while on my porch, my eye caught the most amazing sight. I've read of this; from a very familiar place in fact. But, still, I was mesmerized. There, high in the crepe myrtle in front of me, there was movement. A small scurry through the branches just budding with the fresh green leaves of the season. I watched, waiting. Strangely unextraordinary, yet I could not take my eyes off of this sight. The tiniest of sparrows emerged with its beak filled with straw. Bustling through the branches, I watched it come out, fly across the yard to the dry remnants of last year's pampas grass, grasp a beak-full, and make its way back to the top of the crepe myrtle.

There, right before me, a sparrow was building her nest.

And I could not take my eyes off of her.

She did not wring her feathers in worry. She did not flit around to her neighboring birds twittering, "Whatever shall I do?!?" She simply proceeded to build her nest. With precision and patience, as if she'd done this a hundred times, she made the journey across the yard, from treetop to straw - straw to treetop, building her nest.

I spent the Spring watching this friend go from nesting to motherhood. Within weeks I could hear the tiniest tweets coming from her direction. And she turned her attention to different matters than gathering straw. And I was in awe of how God used this tiny creature to remind me - to outright tell me - how He loves me. How He would provide. How He had me - and my sparrow friend - in the palm of His mighty hand.

Now, two years later, I sit on my porch and remember. (Let me urge you - never stop remembering). The darkest, most painful experience of my life became the greatest experience of my life because of the Love of my Creator. I look up into that tree and remember my sparrow, long gone by now. I remember the provision. I see how far He has led me. I see how He has provided far more than I could ever imagine or ask for.

And I shared how blessed I am; to the point of almost feeling guilty for how spoiled I have been.

And I was reminded: "Didn't you say you are the favorite?"