“Here’s one that hasn’t come up yet,” Curtis told me, “Ice isn’t the most slippery, water over ice is.”
All winter he’s been briefing me on things I needed to know—how to drive in snow; what to be aware of on winter roads. Now that spring is breaking in, the snow is melting during the day and the water is freezing through the night.
“You just need to be aware that sometimes you’ll think it’s just a puddle, but there could be a thin layer of ice beneath, and it can be really tough to keep your balance.”
Sometimes something happens in life that feels just like that. The season of life already feels a bit like walking on ice: it takes extra concentration and focus; you’re a little more tense, a little less relaxed than you’d like to be; your head stays down. Then one more thing comes along–water over ice.
Water over ice can be precarious, but it’s also the sign that a new season is coming. Winter, desperately cold and isolating, is ending. Spring is emerging, but first, the melting.
This pregnancy is the water over the ice of moving cross country, starting a new job, raising a toddler, and purchasing a new house. Those things would be enough for one year, but this extra gift came along, spring-like, and for all its joy and wonder it also layers on me in such a way that I’m struggling to relax and look up and around me.
The fear of falling, of slipping out of control and crashing hard, is very real. Bringing Riley into the family was difficult, and it feels like we just hit our stride as a family of three. I’m so grateful for that, but I’m also scared of losing it a month from now.
I’ve been turning my attention to God’s generosity recently. Just as surely as spring will come, God will be generous with his presence. So I’m looking for it all around me and remembering back to its appearance in the past. It’s the solid ground I want to step onto instead of slipping about. It’s fresh leaves on what were dead looking trees, blue skies and bright sun instead of dreary grey.
So I’m trusting that the water is a gift, and the ice is on its last leg. Spring will come, full of life and beauty, and a generous God is eager to watch me dance in the blooms.