Spring: A Gentle Reminder That God Isn’t Done Yet

The Weight of Winter

This past year brought with it some unique challenges. And this winter? It felt long. Heavy. Weighty.

Not just in the weather, but in my soul.

As a therapist, I often carry the weight of other people’s pain—and this season, I could feel it more deeply than usual. So many of my clients were walking through loss, transitions, anxiety, heartbreak... and I found myself quietly whispering, “me too.” Because I wasn’t just listening—I was living through my own storms, too.

Sometimes people assume that because we’re in the helping profession, we’re somehow immune to the pain others experience. But we’re not. I’m not. We carry our own burdens. We have our own marriages and families to tend to. Our own prayers we’re still waiting on. Our own moments where faith feels fragile.

The Beauty of “Me Too” Moments

Over the years, I’ve walked through life-altering challenges, more moves and transitions than I can count, and seasons marked by depression and anxiety.

And in those moments when I sit across from a weary mom—or a child or teen who’s holding more than their heart knows what to do with—I often find myself quietly saying in my spirit, “me too.”

Though most would never know it, I’ve been there. And I’m still walking it out, one day at a time.

And yet—there is a sacred beauty in that. In comforting others with the same comfort I’ve received from God. In showing up, not because I have it all together, but because I know the One who holds us all together.

“[God] comforts us in all our troubles, so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves receive from God.” — 2 Corinthians 1:4

When Spring Comes Softly

And now—winter is over.

Not everything is fixed or figured out. But Spring is here. And with it comes a slow, sacred shift.

It’s not loud or dramatic. It’s quiet. Gentle. The way the sunlight starts to stretch into the evenings. The way the air softens. The way hope begins to take root again, even before the flowers bloom.

Spring isn’t the celebration—that’s Summer.

Spring is the preparation.

It’s the season of slowly coming out of the darkness and into the light. Of letting God thaw the frozen parts of your heart. Of remembering that even when you feel stuck or behind, God is still moving. He is still writing your story.

“See, I am doing a new thing! Now it springs up; do you not perceive it?” — Isaiah 43:19

A Prayer for the New Season

Lord, thank You for carrying me through the long, heavy winter.

For Your presence in the unseen moments, the weary days, the quiet tears.

As Spring unfolds, awaken my heart again.

Help me step into the light, slowly but surely.

Heal what’s been wounded. Restore what’s been lost.

Give me eyes to see where You are already at work—both around me and within me.

Help me to comfort others with the same comfort You’ve given me.

And remind me, in every budding tree and every warm breeze,

that You are faithful.

And You are not done yet.

Amen.

(If this post encouraged you, feel free to share it or pass it along to someone who may need this reminder. We’re all in process—and none of us are walking alone.)