Springtime of the Heart
When leaf green starts dominating my peripheral vision, a sigh of accomplishment smears that color into my frontal view. Winter has spoken, but springtime prevails. Living in the NorthEast allows a close-up view of this reawakening of life, growth, and new beginnings. Bone chilling rains and gusty mountain winds separate the season of dormancy from the season of stirring. When the first velvety breezes brush your skin in this part of the country you smile inside and breathe in the message of hope.
The silence you have heard from me for the past weeks is partly the result of some extensive travel, both across oceans and along distant trails leading me to new understandings. Buried underneath the frozen, unyielding ground were notions, ideas, and partial sentences that punctured through the thawed surface to finally face the sunshine. Stretching and preening, these concepts have entwined together resulting in some clarity. Anyone on a journey of discovery of self, God, and their role with others will resonate with how much of a miracle that is. Even a tiny thimble of enlightenment pours like a gallon of fresh, living water. Silence evaporates into wiser conversation and the melodies of returning to the camp. Being outside the camp has its place and it does its work, but the evening fire beckons the wanderer. They reclaim their seat under the stars with a stronger voice from a quieter heart.
I traveled to The Land. It was an amazing experience. I went with a special group of Torah lovers, was guided by a wonderful Rabbi well versed in the history and details of Israel, and returned transformed from a glass of milk into a bowl of well-churned butter. Refraining from the tourist traps that impose generic religiosity, we spent our time exploring the places where our Forefathers walked, climbed, and sought refuge. We stood where they stood and saw where they died. In the dark wilderness at night, there was a Sukkah in where we worshiped, shared, and learned. Venturing out into the darkness alone for moments of reflection, I believe I could hear the heart whisperings of the Israelites as they traversed a lonely desert toward an inevitable destiny. The rocks do cry out in Israel. My core answered them. It's still an ongoing dialogue. I await the next trip with a flame in constant flicker that cannot be doused.
Delight in the springtime of your heart even if that season happens at what might seem like an inauspicious time. Even if you didn't cross the pond, haven't stood in an ancient ruin, or experienced yourself in front of new backdrops of travel, be open to those springtime moments and embrace them. It might be a freshened heart from forgiving yourself or others, or it could be a rekindled passion for study or prayer. You might have moved and are writing a new set of rules for your daily routine. Maybe you have started painting, hiking, or journaling. Whatever the new road is, travel it with gusto. Put away the rigid ruler that measured you and take on the disciplined Teacher Who reveals you. He shows us who He created us to be. Look up. It's real.
As the curtains flutter from an open window in your home, know that mine are dancing at my window too. We are never really that far apart, my friend. In fact, we stand together, side by side.
Until David's tent is full again,
Shalom!
