We’ve been waiting a long time for spring to come this year. It has  been cold—and chilly, at best. The warm, sunny days this month could be counted on one hand. Sigh.
A stretch of overcast days with a chill that chases me inside for much of the day leave me yearning for better days ahead.

I’m thankful that God birthed songwriters and gave them a way with words;
Songs lift me up like nothing else.

My playlist lately has included JJ Heller’s song: Loved.
She’s reminding me of good things—God things.

Her song “I Believe” has a gentleness to it—like rain sprinkling soft on my soul.

“When I’m old I’ll talk about the things that You have done—
I believe.

Brokenness made beautiful, the wars that You have won,
And the storms You calmed in me

The truest things I know are those I cannot see.
From my birth to my dying day—I believe.”

Clouds hang low as far as I can see. Tomorrow’s forecast is optimistic: Partly Cloudy. I’m more than ready to welcome the sun. But you know, even if it is overcast tomorrow, the truth is—the sun’s still there.

This line from “I Believe” has come back to me a whole lot lately:

“The truest things I know, are those I cannot see.”

When tragedy plows through all that seems good and right in your world. When only ten minutes—or ten steps—lie between the laughter of life’s bright-eyed celebrations and the no-words-will-do reality of loss and pain and things we cannot fix.

But would if we could.

We’re barely able to wrap our minds around the hard stuff, and so the best we can do right now is to wrap our arms around the hurting ones and pray. To stay close for a while. Cry. And pray some more.

And ten steps later, scoop that new baby into your arms and look with wonder at those tiny fingers and little nose—and love on the new mom who’s taking her first unsure steps in loving tired. Stand up and cheer on those who have stumbled, but have gotten back up. Get over-the-top excited with those who are running well.

In this world where suffering and joy are next door neighbors, won’t someone please sing out a bit of Glory.

Make it a song that comes out real quiet and gentle,
like rain on tender grass,
like gentle showers on young plants.

So hope grows.

.    .    .    .    .   .    .

When you come through those gloomy days don’t the sunny ones feel like new life.
And that, my dear, is just a sip of what’s to come.

Until then, let the rain remind us to sing out a song of praise—
or have the presence of mind to put Truth-singers on our playlists.

.    .    .    .    .    .    .

Another song for your playlist:    “Better Things”   by JJ Heller

“There are far, far better things ahead than any we leave behind.” —C S Lewis