The start of Spring last week was, at least for me, a welcome change of season. Winter is beautiful, yes, but the cold weather and marled grey skies can be a dull drag. Spring blooms, on the other hand, seem to effortlessly brighten up the day with their vibrant, cheerful colors.

In truth, though, my excitement for spring extends beyond a giddy obsession with daffodils, Japanese magnolias, and irises. The change in the physical seasons has been a timely reminder that even the bleakest of spiritual seasons will eventually give way to gladness and rejoicing.

Keeping that truth close at hand has been important for me. I’m in the midst of navigating significant change as a season mixed with remarkable victory and bitter loneliness comes to a close. The future is anything but clear and I struggle daily, if not hourly, to keep my heart before the Lord. That type of dynamic was a central theme of last week’s post, Catching the Dawn.

As it turns out, that post is pretty darn unique. Yes, it touches on topics that come up often like God’s faithfulness and what it looks like to process through daily life. What separates that post from others, though, was the way that it was written.

I typed up the first draft of the post on an early morning flight more than three years ago. For the most part, it takes just a couple of days to write, edit, and publish a post. Writing for a series can take a little longer, but the turn around time for publishing usually keeps an ambitious pace.

Drafting the post was easy – easier than most blog posts, actually. But I just couldn’t bring myself to publish it. Something about the post seemed to be missing and I couldn’t quite discern what was needed.

So, it sat in my notes. Once or twice a year I’d come across the draft and read through it. The memory of that striking sunset seemed to resonate as much as it actually had on the flight. It brought up one of two reactions:

1. During seasons of joy, the post reminded me of God’s mercy in lifting lifting the heaviness that had once hung over me. Yet, even in these lighter seasons, I still felt a pang of bitterness at the sharp reminder that many core dreams are nowhere close to being fulfilled.
2. When I was in a difficult season, reading through the description of the sunrise helped reset my vision. Daybreak will come; the darkness won’t last forever. I felt grieved, though, that I was still in a place of waiting. My heart was desperate for Light and longed for dreams to become reality.

No matter how much I tried, though, I was still unable to finish the post. Until last week, that is…

This past season, like I said, has been marked by both victory and loneliness. Celebrating those victories has been both sweet and powerful. For every moment of victory, though, there seemed to be at least twenty lonesome ones. Meeting God in that loneliness has been hard.

The empty days have made me painfully aware that I am the furthest I have ever been from the realization of many hopes and dreams. Disappointment has racked my heart. At times, I’ve been scared that the pain of hope deferred will cause me to turn away from Him. Asking God for comfort has seemed like only a band-aid solution. Something needed to change.

In His goodness, the Lord gently lead me to a handful of passages: 1 & 2 Peter, Revelation 19, and Ephesians 1. For the past three months I have put my heart before those scriptures and asked Holy Spirit to come and move. Faithfully, He has.

God graciously reminded me that the ultimate fulfillment of my heart is none other than Jesus. Just Jesus. I may never see any of those long-term dreams come true. But on that Last Day, my heart will resound with anthems of praise at the revelation of the Risen King.

Knowing that His return will be the true and final dawn shifted my gaze beyond my season and above hope deferred. It also enabled me to finish writing the blog post.

I’m still walking through transition without a clear vision of what lies ahead. Nothing in my circumstance has changed. Even so, I know that my chief occupation is simply to seek first the Kingdom. Through prayer, simplicity, worship, communion, and service, I am able to best position my heart to better know and love God. It seems simple enough – and, in truth it is – but it’s been one real, raw journey. I know that there’s still plenty of distance yet to go, but the shift in perspective has made all the difference.

It is my humble and deepest hope that I – alongside all of you, dear saints – might be like one of those tall mountain peaks that, while jagged, wait diligently with great anticipation for the Son, our Great Light.