Your Heartbeat

The winter is past;
the rains are over and gone.
Flowers appear on the earth;
the time of singing has come.
Song of Solomon 2:11

The strain of winter had me almost paralyzed. It was the longest winter of my life. The snow drifts lurked overhead and even blue skies couldn't be found. My heart had been driven into the cold hard embankment. I sought Your face and Your face I could not see. All hopes and dreams had vanished in the blizzard. The silence of the fallen snow was deafening. But I knew I was not alone. You had never abandoned me in winters past. I had learned to trust Your heart with yesterday’s heartaches. So I listened intently, one more time, for Your heartbeat once again. In the midst of heavy solitude I began to hear its faint rhythm. I know You. I know Your heartbeat. You would never leave me alone. No matter how abandoned I felt.

How many times had Your heart rescued me before? Countless, I suppose. Only You could keep record. I hate the winter! All signs of life removed and kept from sight. Where do You store the flowers of summer days gone? Where do You store a little girls dreams when winter pries them out of her hand? Dreams of a Knight in shining armor and children happy and whole playing around her apron. Her hopes for life full and joy within reach. Where do they vanish?

I heard your heartbeat in the depths of the silence, and I was reminded it beats in communion with mine. Memories of Your faithfulness begin to surface and heartbeat speeds and oxygen is deeply breathed in. Out of the deepness of soul my heart gives way and sound presses forth until lips are singing. Melodies of trust and notes of surrender are once again released into the atmosphere of bitter cold. Faith again emerges and I am left undone, standing before The One who is unseen. No longer am I going against the grain of the universe, but rather, I begin to sing wildly in unison! It is You who stores the dreams of little girls. It is You that pries them out of old man winter's hand!

Winter has served its purpose and hard lessons are learned through the drudging of snow. White powder melts into streams of living waters and winters bareness gives way to springs meadow. As I surrender myself to the strain of winter blast, I am allowed to harmonize with heaven's keynotes. It takes eleven tons of pressure to tune a piano. It takes remembering Your heart to tune mine also. Faith requires tension. It is the tension of faith that releases the melodies of heaven. When I surrender to the memories of You a melody of heaven's finest fragrances are unleashed. Alluring raptures and earths flowers burst forth wild with harmony.

The winter is past; the rains are over and gone. Flowers appear on the earth; the time for singing has come! The time for singing has come!