Inky Orchard

In the morning I return to Savannah to begin my last quarter of college. The very last go-round. Classes start Monday. As in, tomorrow (technically).

Home has been so good to me this spring break. (My last spring break!) Transitioning between full-throttle work and then endless rest is always a jarring shift in gear, no matter how desperately the rest is needed. But returning home to my family, to spring, and to restful contemplation of my future has been very good preparation for the quarter to come.

Spring is absolutely my favorite season. I love all of them for different reasons (though I only dig winter if there’s good snow), but every time spring rolls around, there’s no question. Green. Life and color springing forth from where I forgot it used to be. Winter’s deadness gets to me sometimes. Bare trees. Cold sky. (Not so much in Savannah, though!) Dormant life. Back in February I was home for a weekend, and I remember walking in the woods and being struck by a scene of towering, skinny tree trunks covered in ivy. These trees stuck out to me on my walk because of the green amidst all the bare trunks. I remember praying for God to clothe me like He brings the leaves to the trees. This week I have seen daffodils bloom, tulips come up from the ground to their full glory, leaves bud, trees put forth new green shoots visible from the second story of my house, and majestic flowering robes of wysteria hanging in branches all over town. The trees are now being clothed. And God will clothe me too.

I want to keep blogging. I never intend to put it aside, but things get in the way. Mainly school. I will try to stick to a goal of one blog post (at least) for each of the ten weeks I have left before graduation. This is a precious time for me. I’m in Savannah living with my dearest friends, and these are the weeks before we all scatter and part ways to begin our lives as adults. Somewhere. These are the last ten weeks I spend as an (undergraduate) student at an amazing art school. My dream school. The last ten weeks before I enter the work force. Before moving on. Moving out.

I’ve had to deal with a lot of fears this break, and some that immobilized me for days. I went walking in the rain today. I looked at those trees with the ivy-covered trunks. A tiny brilliant green inchworm descended from my umbrella into my hand. As I attempted to get him onto my finger so I could put him safely on the ground, promising that I wouldn’t hurt him and that I knew what I was doing, I felt God’s reassurance. I am that inchworm in the hand of God. I’ve got a plan for where I’m going. But ultimately He knows where I’ll be landing. And He sees a much bigger world, a fuller plan than I could ever prepare myself. Worlds.

I will trust in Him, and He will act. And I’m going to keep on reveling in all this green. It’s gorgeous, vibrant, and full of all the life surrounding me. All the time. Life: that’s what I’ve got in front of me. And He’s the giver of life. Constant. No matter what. Spring always comes.