I go through my early morning routine today feeling a bit in a fog. I had one of those longer nights that come with babies. I kiss Josiah goodbye at the door and feel a bit of the cold fresh air and hear birds singing their songs. It’s too cold for that, isn’t it? Too grey, at least.

This Spring has been a slow one in coming. Everyone knows that — it’s basically all everyone talks about. When will it warm up? When will the sun shine? When can I start gardening? When can I stop paying to heat my house? We obviously know that at some point it will change — the temperature won’t hover around freezing for always, snowflakes won’t dance about on a daily basis, and green will be the color that surrounds instead of grey and brown, but it’s hard in the waiting.

We humans aren’t very good at waiting, are we.

Yesterday morning I finished The Jesus Storybook Bible with the boys for probably the 4th time through. (And time to take it up to the next level for my Adrian who’s taking in more and more these days!) It ends highlighting how the Bible ends — with the words, “Come, Lord Jesus!” I tell the boys what that means: Come, take us home. Come, bring us to the place You’re preparing. Come, we long to be with You. Come. It’s the Great Wait, if you will. But it’s the knowing & believing that what He said is true that gets us through the long days (and seasons!). Hope is a beautiful thing. And knowing what you hope in is true — that’s the perfect sort of hope.

This slow-to-come Spring is a good reminder to me — “He who promised is faithful.” We wait, looking with anticipation toward Home, Rest, Peace. And it will come. He will come.

And we’ll get there, Northern folks. Look for the small signs — life that’s working so hard to make its way through cold soil, birds singing more and more, and daylight growing longer and longer. Soon. And sometimes, it seems like we appreciate things in life more when we find ourselves having to be patient and not lose hope. There’s good that comes in waiting, too.