Upon the Passing of Seasons
Reflections from the Studio
The sunlight has streamed in my window every day this week, and my heart sings to see it.
Winter out here in Eastern Washington can be unpredictable at times. Some years we hardly get any snow but it is bitter cold and everything is coated in ice, some years we get buried in several feet of it, and other years, winter is nearly over (we think) until it leaps around the last corner of February or even March, screaming “Gotcha!” while it unloads all the snow and ice it has stockpiled in advance of it’s unfunny prank.
I worried for several weeks that’s what we were in for this year. But then yesterday….
My heart eases in my chest a little, relieved. I don’t know that I could have survived much longer without signs of springtime coming; call me dramatic, but when you live for fresh air and walking trails and communion with the earth, and have a marked intolerance for cold, winter is rather like a prison sentence.
I feel joy returning. I lift my face to the sky, praising God as His sun shines down upon me. Thank you for this sunny day, thank you for these moments, thank you for hope, thank you for your faithfulness….
Just as the outdoors are beginning to break into newness of life, my time in the studio this week has been marked by a similar passing of season: I have, at long last, finished my Master’s degree. I’ve reached the summit of this particular mountain, exited the valley of shadow, and the world stretches out before me, bright and new in more ways than one. I began my Master’s studies in the depths of despair two and a half years ago following a hasty exit from an abusive relationship. I was scared, lost, and had no semblance of self other than once upon a time I used to be a scholar and a skilled professional. Following the nudge of the Holy Spirit, I took my first step out of wreckage, toward a better life.
What, Lord, can I do that uses my gifts and talents? How can we build me a life that brings joy instead of more heartache?
The journey began with a desperate question, and ended this week in the culmination of a 3.94 GPA and plans for post-grad work, but better yet, the deep understanding of who I am in Christ and the purpose for which I was put here. My art has grown by leaps and bounds, the outer mirroring the inner changes. It has been the crossing of my very own Jordan into the Promised Land, from darkness into light. The delight is real.
Like the lilac buds outside my window, I am growing from out of the barrenness of my last season, toward a more fruitful future.
The world awaits.