It was a beautiful day in the New York area, with temperatures in the low 70s. As I noticed the fullness of the trees, the appealing sounds of chirping birds, and the welcomed warmth of the sun, I found myself recalling how this landscape was so different just a few months ago.
The trees were bare, the birds were absent, and the chill of the winter dominated the scene. As the world kept spinning, the inevitable occurred as promised new life had its say, and it now dominates the season.
As I reflected on this transition, I realized howI can naturally trust in the darkness of winter that the sun will return. I do not doubt that the leaves will form, the grass will grow, and the temperature will rise. Maybe it is because of its track record, but I never doubted in January that a transformation was going to occur in April.
When I look inward, I try to take this lesson with me. I hope to trust in the same divine hand that makes the world turn is leading me into greener pastures. Perhaps it is the unknown, the risk of future next steps, that limits my ability to fully appreciate my own transformation.
What if I could trust in my own destiny, as I do in the changing of the seasons, the rising of the sun, and the stars at night?
What if I can believe that even in the dark winters, that like the hidden seeds in the ground, new life is slowly preparing for the next chapter?
Albert Einstein once wrote, “Look deep into nature and then you will understand everything better.”
As the sun shines stronger during this time of growth, might we, too, allow the external to influence the internal. May we become like our surroundings, basking in the divine love that is always there, just waiting for us to trust and to accept the changing of the seasons and of our lives.
“For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven.” Ecclesiastes 3:1