My world does not look like this. The calendar promises me today is the first day of Spring. But, it snowed here three days ago. And it is cold and dark as I write this blog post.

No jonquils poking out their brave, little heads. No buds on the ornamental pear trees. Just bare, dark, Narnia-without-Aslan winter today.

Tomorrow will be different.

That is the beauty of the Midwest. If you don’t like the weather today, just stick around, it will be different tomorrow. Sometimes by forty degrees.

I’ve found seasons of my life are the same way. I don’t always get what I expected. Some days simply don’t feel like spring. In those times, I see more bare branches than buds, and I can’t even imagine fruit growing someday.

When that happens, I do what I did today. I remind myself that spring always comes. Always. It will never cease until time ends. And, in the meantime, it is still well with my soul.

Then I take advantage of the last hours of winter and spend one more evening cuddled under a blanket with a cup of tea. Every season has its perks.