Faith is the confidence that what we hope for will actually happen; it gives us assurance about things we cannot see. ~Hebrews 11:1
“The spring breeze? The one you talked about? I felt it today.”
I read her message, then closed my eyes and stood quietly as the winter sun warmed my face with the “soon and very soon” promise of wildflowers and sunsets at the lake.
“Something in me felt a breeze.”
I looked up. The sky was vivid above me, and a contrail sliced the
blue.There’s something about contrails. What is it about contrails?
How long had it been since the night we talked about the spring breeze? There had been so many days of winter – so many days of wondering if things would really change, of planting seeds of hope and waiting for even a hint of life to emerge from the brown cracked landscape of life.
Winters visit, and winters don’t care. They bring numbing moments, hard seasons. Days go gray and light is hard to find.
The job that won’t come. The illness that wont relent. The love that won’t heal. The oppression that won’t lift. The sorrow that won’t fade.
Winters have no regard for social status or age or how much money is in the bank. No, winters just run deep and deeper. And yet…
“A shift. A movement. A quiet “whoosh” of “everything is going to be okay…”
We’ve been praying for the spring in her life, when the season would start to change and she would feel the hope she knows is real but fights winter to find.
Oh yes, I remember. I’d lie on the grass and watch the
jets paint the sky. They would disappear so quickly, but
the contrails stayed. They were evidence. Beautiful evidence,
glorious evidence that something powerful existed.
Something worth knowing.
We’ve been praying for the breeze that thaws the icy grip. We’ve been praying for the evidence of things not yet seen. With eyes closed, I whispered, “Lord, she feels You. That breeze is the evidence of You.”
I’ve said it before. Spring is coming. Winter may be fighting hard to stay, but it will be vanquished. You’ll feel the breeze. And you’ll know. I’m praying for you now, friends – for the breeze to come soon.
If you’ve got a specific prayer request, if winter’s grip is tight, please let me know. I’ll stand with you in prayer, and I’ll bring a small army with me.
2 thoughts on “When Contrails Slice the Blue.”
here’s to spring breezes. and here’s to the hope of them.
Reading that was like taking a Big deep breath of hope. THEN exhale faith, knowing He’s as close as my breath.Thank you for the encouragement. May Grace&peace be yours in abundance.