Against all odds, January actually came to an end. Every year, the calendar promises us that only 31 days exist in this month, yet it feels like January will go on forever. When you're in the middle of a month that is frigid—to the point that the snow doesn't melt for a week and space heaters are essentially touching your toes around the clock—and also seemingly sunless, exiting that season and moving into a new one seems impossible.
Once our January snow finally melted, though, against all odds, I discovered daffodil bulbs! Oh, and weeds—how thoughtful of the snow to preserve those. And since February has dawned, I have found that the sun is shining more and it doesn't set at approximately 3:00 p.m. It's no tropical island outside, but there is concrete evidence that we are inching towards spring.
After a January as arctic as ours was and a season as hard as the one my husband and I have found ourselves in, the promise that earthly seasons are not eternal has brought me so much comfort. A lot of days, I can't imagine getting to the other side of the season we're in. But when I walk outside in these early days of February, donning just three layers instead of around seven, it's a reminder that our earthly suffering is never forever.
"He made the moon to mark the seasons; the sun knows its time for setting." Psalm 104:19
The God who is sovereign over the best seasons is the same God who is with us in the darkest ones. Seasons change (literally praise the Lord for that), but God never does. He is good and only good, even on the grayest of days and in the seasons that seem unending.
May our Februaries be like how Punxsutawney Phil's morning began: with less shadows of a hard season behind us and more signs of the glorious spring that lies ahead. Praise the Lord that seasons change—and that He does not.