winter.

i didn't want summer to end. during those final warm days in september, i spent every moment outside that i could, hoping to soak up the last bits of summer sun. i wanted to bottle it inside of me in order to keep the blanket-like warmth a part of me all winter long. some things don't last forever. i dreaded the winter. what would i do when i could not lay out on the fresh-cut grass and stare up at the sky, covered by the sun's warm glow? what would become of me as i walked briskly to class in order to outrun the cold frosty blow?

one of the aspects i love about the northeast is that winter never (usually) comes at full force; mother nature slowly warms (rather - cools) us up to winter's stormy blast. (i say usually due to the freak snowstorm we had a couple of weeks ago.) as the warm summer sun slowly faded, autumns cool breezes came and brought about a beautiful, colorful landscape all around us. driving through new england last month, i wanted to capture the magnificance, bottle it, and save it for later. some things don't last forever. yet even in the beauty of autumn, there is an eery feeling of the impending winter. as the leaves fall from their places on the trees, mother nature warns us: "it's coming." the geese fly south. the stores string their christmas lights. we don our winter coats and scarves. winter is coming.

walking around in this winter wonderland of christmas music, peppermint lattes, and decorated trees, my heart feels this sensation of excitement. winter is coming. excitement? excitement for the very season i was dreading three months ago? how can this be? i feel excitement for warm sweaters, for fires in the fireplace, for egg nog, candy canes, family, pumpkin pie, and even snow, yes even for snow. the cold is bitter and yet my heart is filled with joy. the very thing that i dreaded now brings me excitement and hope. and i know that some things don't last forever. the holiday cheer will soon give way to hope for spring and sunshine again. some things don't last forever.

these past few weeks i have found myself dreading the ambiguity of life after college, much like i was dreading winter. "i must soak up all that i can from these last few classes, these last few rays of sunshine, and bottle them up inside of me, i can save it for the dreary days of after graduation," i tell myself. yet some things don't last forever. the Lord proves to teach me a lesson from nature once again: there is joy in the winter. it will not look the same or feel the same. my hot cocoa does not taste like an afternoon on the beach, but it is special and wonderful in its own way, in its own time. i don't know what life after graduation will look like or feel like, but even though bitter winds may blow, i can trust that there will be moments of holiday-like joy.

what does last forever? "the steadfast love of the Lord is from everlasting to everlasting," (psalm 103). God's love is from spring to summer, summer to autumn, autumn to winter, and winter to spring. it is His love where i should find my joy as i delight in spring trips to the park, summer days at the beach, autumn drives through new england, and winter evenings by the fire. it is God's love that i need to rest in while i am writing my paper for class, as i am worried about healthcare benefits, and when i walk across the stage on may 16th.

some things don't last forever. but we put our hope in what does.