I know it is still actually winter here in Southern California though our winter is warmer than many people’s summer. But I speak metaphorically. Spring has arrived in my soul after what has felt like a very long winter.

I was looking back in a journal from almost 2 years ago. Here is what I wrote:

“It is so exciting to see new growth this spring with new rosebuds, bright green monkey grass and new ferns uncurling. It is a visual of the promise for our family. (The promise whispered actually 3 years ago but it was just 1 year when I wrote this- “Spring is coming and it will be new and beautiful”.) There is life after what only felt dark and sad. Knowing life is vibrant and growing on top of Holly’s (our black lab of 7 years) grave is inspiring.

Death never gets the last word.

Actual physical death

Death of a season

Death of expectations

Death of a dream

There is always room for hope to poke its head up out of the ground that once was only seen as a grave site.

One cannot have a new season without another season coming to an end. (This was spot on encouragement given by friend at a going away party).

After rereading this old entry, my heart leapt with joy knowing that our spring was here. 3 years ago to this month I was sitting in Montana at an amazing retreat center called Refuge.

My husband had surprised me with a plane ticket to a week long retreat since I was crying all the time and this was his sweet way of telling me that he saw me in my struggles as a foster/adoptive mom and that he wanted renewal for my weary spirit.

The day before I received spot on encouragement from Jesus Calling devotional, “Come to Me (Jesus) for rest and refreshment. The journey has been too much for you, and you are bone-weary. Do not be ashamed of your exhaustion. Instead, see it as an opportunity for Me to take charge of your life.”

I was at a loss with our youngest who at the time was 5 years old and who came to our family at 23 months. I felt like I had never been a mom. He was the youngest of our 4. He was the 7th human we had helped to raise since we cared for 3 of my teen siblings throughout their high school years. So it is not like I was a newbie to this mothering rodeo. I was also not new to caring for children since I was a preschool teacher, 1st grade teacher and the oldest of 6 siblings. But what worked with the others did not work with him. He had his own trauma that needed a different approach. The 12 fostering classes barely scratched the surface of equipping me to do this job in a way where I could keep my sanity. So I was left feeling broken not knowing how to love him through his broken places.

I went to the retreat not knowing another soul and that was ok because I spent most of my time in my room sleeping or crying. This introvert could have never done this as a younger woman because I was not confident in being an introvert. But now I could be in this space and be authentic in our shared meals and let myself bawl whenever I needed to. Over the years I have found so much freedom in being my real self and accepting that I do not need to be everyone’s cup of tea. 

What a gift to be there and to have the space for my soul to come out of hiding. Ruth Haley Barton says that it is not til we allow ourselves the space to encounter silence and solitude that our timid soul can come out of hiding. So I was there and I could just be free to feel what I needed to feel. I brought books to read since reading is a source of joy. But to be honest I did virtually no reading and minimal journaling but just allowed myself to “be”. I did not have the energy to do much else.

Thankfully as a retreat staff, they were aware of the depletion people often arrive with. That is why all meals are prepared and helping to clean up is forbidden. 😉 There were options for massage, art therapy, yoga, walks in the nature, shooting practice, and soaks in the hot tub (no way was I going to try that in 1 degree weather but some ladies braved it and came back with ice for mascara).

What I needed was a space to embrace my limits as a human and be okay that I was not okay. 

On the last day there an option for worship and communion which I decided to go to. There were more of these times but I needed solitude and chose what my heart needed. This is another place of growth. I am getting better at seeing what I need and not saying yes because I feel like I should. The staff there was so good at providing opportunities for engagement yet also the freedom to follow the Spirit in what each individual needed. 

So during this time of worship the tears kept falling. I know I have been crying all week so this was not a shocker. But this felt different. I felt a longing for spring, both literal but honestly more figuratively. I was ready for beauty and new life. In that moment I felt like God allowed me to feel the sadness and loneliness for Jeremy the last 10 years and lead pastor and sole full-time staff. In that living room looking out over the brilliant white landscape I felt like God promised spring was coming for Jeremy and it would be new and beautiful. In my journal I wrote, “I am just wanting joy for him. No matter what that means. I’m open to what new God may want to do.”

Returning home to NC I began to notice more and more promises of spring. The theme of spring and home was everywhere I looked. So I wrote the things down and waited to see what adventure God had for us next. To make a long story short, we ended up closing down Story Church (the church we planted 14 years ago) and moving back home to California not knowing what career paths would open up.

We truly did not see ourselves in paid ministry again but God knows us best. A friend asked if Jeremy would be interested in leading the youth at our church (jr. high through 26yrs. ish). He took the job and oh how the joy has returned for Jeremy and I. I believe when you walk in the gifts God has placed inside of you, there is joy. Overflowing joy. The joy that feels like we should be the ones paying for this opportunity instead of vice versa. We LOVE encouraging the young adults. It is truly such a gift.

Spring has sprung.