This is the view from my bedroom window. In fact, this is the exact view I see when I’m resting with my head on my pillow at nap time. A few days ago I was getting ready for my afternoon nap. The girls were settling down in their room and Paul was sleeping a few feet away from me in his bassinet, but I couldn’t fall asleep right away. So I opened my eyes and watched the trees blowing in the wind.
The sky was a beautiful springtime blue and everything looked warm in the sunshine. Although the trees were still bare of any leaves, and they were waving in the strong winds, they were glowing a cozy golden brown. I watched the peaceful scene for a while thinking about how nice it is that springtime has finally come. It sure felt like a long winter this year.
Suddenly a change came over the scene so abruptly that at first I didn’t know what had happened. I must have been getting sleepy and paying less attention to the trees when I looked out the window and saw everything changed. The trees were black. The sky was grey. The wind sounded harsh, and the warm glow of spring had gone. I wondered, at first, if it had been my imagination, but after a couple minutes the warmth returned and I realized that the change had only come from a cloud passing in front of the sun. It was just the shadow of the cloud that made that awful change from my warm spring scene to that cold, harsh one.
I lay in bed for a while watching the scene change back and fourth and I was suddenly struck by a parallel to my own life.
We have been basking in the warmth of having a new baby at home. Everything is full of newness, hope, and cozy time together. I am a bit like that tree basking in the new spring sun under that bright spring sky.
Of course, with a new baby comes its own share of challenges: sleepless nights, loads of laundry, and adjusting to life with three Littles. After the months of waiting and resting and limiting my activity, recovering from labor and delivery, and living through days on far less sleep, I feel a little bit like those bare tree branches being blown back and forth by the strong gusts of wind.
As I lay in my comfy bed and listened to that wind blowing, I realized that I couldn’t do anything to change the color of the sky, the warmth of the sun, or the strength of the wind. But I do have control over one thing. I can choose to be the dark, cold tree branches hidden from the sun. Or, I can choose to be the warm, glowing branches, golden under those springtime rays. Of course, it’s easy to be cold and short (especially with my toddlers) when I feel stretched thin and sleep-deprived, when the house is messier than normal, and I don’t have any kind of predictable routine. In fact, I can’t be warm and glowing on my own strength. I need the sun for that.
But if I will stay abiding in Jesus I can reflect His warmth, His gentleness and patience, His love and kindness, even when my branches are bare and the wind is blowing hard.
Of course, this doesn’t just apply to my home as we adjust to having our little Paul at home with us. This applies to any situation in life that comes with its share of blessings and hardships. It’s a good lesson in bearing with our trials and reflecting the light of Christ. And it’s a lesson I can remember every time I look out my bedroom window.
“But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control…”