So here we are: February 22. The long slog of winter.
Here in the Upper Midwest, we have many weeks of cool weather still ahead of us. If statistics are to be believed, we stand a good chance of getting dumped on by a spring blizzard or two. (March is traditionally our snowiest month.) Our average daytime high doesn’t even hit 50 until the first week in April.
It’s true that the sun is lingering longer, and we enjoyed a few days of above-freezing temperatures last week. The songbirds have returned. The snow drifts are turning into dangerous piles of razor-sharp ice pellets, coated with black grime (which is actually an encouraging sight, when you are eager for winter to end).
But spring is most assuredly not around the corner for us. For now, the future is more of the same. No change in sight.
And so we wait.
Quite honestly, it feels like the story of my life right now. Not only am I lusting after spring and warmer days and tiny buds of green on the trees, but I am eagerly awaiting the birth of our son in May. No other pregnancy has sucked the life out of me like this one. (When I asked my OB at my last appointment, “I’m guessing this is just a combination of my fourth baby and being 38?” she only grinned at me. Darn.)
I am waiting to see how this year unfolds. We have Many Big Life Decisions ahead of us. It’s possible that this time next year, nothing will have changed. We will still be living in our townhouse, Corey will be working at the same marketing company, the kids will continue attending the Christian school in a neighboring suburb. But we could also be on the other side of the country, living in a city I’ve never even visited. Corey could be working at a new job, and I could be working to resettle our family in a brand new place. With a new baby. Both outcomes are equally possible and believable, and right now, we have no clear indicator of the journey ahead.
We also have a house that’s been on the market for 3.5 years now. We are still waiting (and waiting and waiting) for someone to buy it.
That’s a lot of waiting. But something tells me, you can relate. You might not be waiting for the same things as me. Maybe you’re waiting for an adoption to go through. Maybe you’re waiting for God to bring you a mate. Maybe you’re waiting for God to answer your pleas and resurrect your relationship with your spouse.
And waiting can be torturous, especially when we feel like we’ve waiting long enough. I mean, come on, God. How long do you expect us to wait? Are you still there? Do you even care that we are lost in the mist?
(To be continued tomorrow....) (Somehow, it just seems fitting to make you wait.)