Dear Lord, please get me through until spring. The weather outside belies the spirit in my heart. Outside it’s unseasonably warm—daffodils in bloom, buds swelling, people running wearing tank tops. The calendar says it’s late winter but I’m hunkered down inside like it’s mid-January. I want to crawl into my bed under layers of heavy blankets. I want to eat macaroni and cheese and drink hot chocolate. It should be sleeting and the cold wind should be howling. The world outside should match the cry of my heart. But spring will come, both literally and figuratively. Lord, please just support me, let me feel your loving embrace, lift me out of this cold sadness. Let me know that, though people I love have died, that I am alive and that I will soon feel the joy of that life. Lord, please get me through until spring.
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