
My Love,
You cannot fight the Winter. You cannot pull the Spring forward to brighten the days and spark the blooms until it is ready. I ordain the seasons and I time the days so that it all comes, it all comes rightly when things are ready to grow and blossom. When the dead has fallen away, when the old has finally withered and made space for the fullness of Spring and the fresh things coming. Because even this long, hard Winter has its purpose.
A breeze is on its way, one that will sharpen your senses and clear the air in your lungs, one that will bring exhilaration and joy and fullness, pushing wide open your vision, beyond the horizons that have seemed so small, so shrunken, so limited. But for now, you are waiting.
It is hard to die. You were created to live, made for wild freedom and so this is what you are craving, striving for, gasping to inhale with every part of you. Because it is what you were made for. And so resting in Winter is hard. Feeling and fighting the painful dying in every part of you as the old falls away, as the deadness is sloughed away, desperate to move forward, grasping to take hold of something that feels more like Life, instead of what feels like an awful opposite.
The house that you are letting go is no longer to the shape of you, no longer your home. It is a tomb where things have died and this is lingering, hanging in the air, sitting in chairs, observing from corners and this stifles your breath, shapes your thinking and colours your gaze, even though you don’t even realise how far this has gone. It has been so present, so continuous that it has become a shawl around your shoulders, once comforting, but now old, worn and no longer needed.
And so as you clear the rooms, empty the cupboards and fill the boxes; as this home becomes an empty shell and you feel it clearly as the tomb that it has become, remember that I am not put off by tombs. I am quite comfortable in the place that you are in. I sit with you, hold your hand, tell you that I am leading you out soon, in only a short while. And as we wait, I will lend you My ease, give you My comfort, offer you My breath. So that even in this place you can sing, lift your voice and return My song of love to you, welcoming in the Life that is surely coming. Because Spring is on its way, My Love, it really is on its way.
Beautiful
Hey Matt, thank you x