Sandra Heska King

daring to open doors

  • Home
  • About
  • DISCLOSURES
    • Amazon Affiliate
    • Book Reviews
  • Published
  • Contact
  • Blog
    • Commit Poetry
    • Dared

Waiting for Spring

January 2, 2012 By Sandra Heska King

 

The highway stretches and bends white.

The grandgirls are riding with us. Grace is playing with her new Kindle Fire, and it sounds like she’s spraying paint in the back seat. Then it’s quiet, and she is reading. She shows me where she’s highlighted some words.

Lillee sleeps.

I amuse myself by snapping pictures on the move–with both the big-girl camera and The Droid.

We’re on the way home after a New Year’s Eve raclette dinner, silly games, and gift exchange.

I think of how my mom would have been 83 yesterday, about the pork-and-bean breads my dad baked for the adults and how he wrapped Hershey chocolate bars with five-dollar bills for the grandgirls. He brought some trinkets for game prizes. (Mom used to collect little presents. We might end up with a pen that didn’t work or a tin half filled with solid perfume.)

It’s been a hard season for him, and he was quiet when we stopped to say goodbye.

We laughed and had fun this weekend, but still, there was an undercurrent of sadness.

Of spirits in winter.

 

 

I think about how I somehow slipped Saturday and lost my balance as my shoe flew off and how I crashed into the glass door of the coffee shop. And how I collected myself and pretended nothing was wrong when I purchased the last-minute gift cards. But how later I couldn’t walk because of the pain (level 9 on the scale) in my right foot and how I spent an hour in the emergency room.

Just a sprain, but I went back to Sissy’s with crutches and pain meds and icing instructions.

And the admonition that healing time will depend on how kind I am to the foot. How well I’m able to surrender to the pain.

The pain is actually a gift. To remind me I’m not ready to bear full weight.

The landscape outside is bleak and tangled.

 

 

But it has its own beauty.

The trees hypnotize me. Pines sag under the weight of snow. Hardwoods stand skeletonized. Undressed. Fruitless. Some branches and trunks have fallen. Pruned by the elements. The broken that will one day provide food and shelter.

 

 

 

They have no choice but to surrender to winter.

And wait for spring.

How interesting that the New Year, a new beginning, at least for Michiganders, is rooted in the heart of winter.

There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under the heavens. ~Ecclesiastes 3:1 (NIV)

On In Around button

 

Share this:

  • Email
  • Print
  • Facebook
  • Twitter
  • Pinterest

Filed Under: stories and reflections

Comments

  1. Linda says

    January 3, 2012 at 2:25 pm

    Sandy, your words are somehow infused with a something special these days – a touch of grace. Take this winter time, dear friend, and let it do its work. Spring will come.
    Praying for healing of body and spirit.

    • Sandra says

      January 3, 2012 at 3:25 pm

      You know as I played a little with the color on these, the red popped. Hope in hiding.

      Your words are a blessing, Linda. So are you.

  2. Mike Fisk says

    January 3, 2012 at 2:39 pm

    Great Post Sandy. I enjoyed the way you incorporated pictures into the ‘winter thoughts’ so to speak. Looking back on life and growing, especially as we get older, is a sort of ‘winter’ experience. Being from northern Wisconsin doesn’t hurt any either! There’s a certain beauty in bare woods and snow.
    God Bless!
    Mike

    • Sandra says

      January 3, 2012 at 3:26 pm

      Thanks, Mike. And it’s those winter times, the seemingly dead times, that ultimately produce fruit, right? Our seasons show that clearly, right?

  3. Dea says

    January 3, 2012 at 2:51 pm

    The trees surrendered to winter and you are surrendering to your pain–both physical and emotional. And as Linda said there is a grace that rises in your words in your journey toward spring. God bless you and wrap you warm in His love.

    • Sandra says

      January 3, 2012 at 3:28 pm

      Thanks so much, Dea. So grateful to have connected with you this past year. Praying for heaped-up grace in your life this year.

  4. Nancy says

    January 3, 2012 at 3:06 pm

    “The pain is actually a gift. To remind me I’m not ready to bear full weight.” I absolutely agree with what Linda said. There is deep soul work going on in you in this winter season.

    I don’t like winter. I don’t like cold. I truly understand why the curse on Narnia was “always winter and never Christmas.” I need the hope of Christmas interrupting my winter seasons. Sometimes I wish it came later in winter.

  5. Sandra says

    January 3, 2012 at 3:29 pm

    That line is in there? I need to go back and re-read that!

  6. S. Etole says

    January 3, 2012 at 3:43 pm

    In a seemingly barren time spring waits in hiding for the promise to come.

    • Sandra says

      January 3, 2012 at 9:26 pm

      If only we have eyes to see. Winter is a real faith-building time.

  7. Joanne Norton says

    January 3, 2012 at 4:51 pm

    Winter has it’s own lovely portion. The cold doesn’t help me, though. Our winter has been less intense. But I always look forward to that one stretch in April when the trees begin to be gray-green and then explode. In the meantime, I just try to appreciate the blessing that comes with Winter. God didn’t prepare it as a “nothing”, and I have to trust Him for that.

    Hope your pain disappears very quickly.

    • Sandra says

      January 3, 2012 at 9:28 pm

      So far our weather has been pretty mild. This weekend was the first real blast, but it’s expected to warm a bit again. I’m learning to accept the winter seasons and see the beauty in them. My foot is much better, though I can tell I’ve been on it too much today. 🙂

  8. laura says

    January 3, 2012 at 7:29 pm

    I agree with Linda, Sandy. Beauty breathes through your sorrow. Isn’t that a strange kind of grace? Winter sleeps and when spring comes…new again! Praying healing and rest for you, sweet friend.

    • Sandra says

      January 3, 2012 at 9:33 pm

      Beauty breathes through sorrow. That might find its way into a poem. 🙂 That you all are seeing something different in my writing lately makes my heart swell.

  9. Brandee Shafer says

    January 3, 2012 at 8:44 pm

    Sorry about your foot. Glad about your soul.

    • Sandra says

      January 3, 2012 at 9:34 pm

      😀 😀

  10. Pamela says

    January 3, 2012 at 9:20 pm

    I so enjoyed your snow pictures. I love snow but after the first big one I’m ready for spring. I think my soul needs the winter to prepare. God teaches me in the winter months.

    I hope your foot heals quickly.

    • Sandra says

      January 3, 2012 at 9:35 pm

      There is so much work that happens in the silence of winter. We may not even be aware of it. The foot is already healing. 🙂

  11. Dolly @ soulstops says

    January 3, 2012 at 10:14 pm

    Oh, Sandra, it is so true…be kind to your foot; respect the pain…I was not kind to my ankle when I hurt it so it took longer to heal and now I have permanent damage…Likewise, be kind and gentle with yourself as you grieve…praying that God will uphold you and comfort you…it is hard to be in winter…thank you for sharing your wise insights.

  12. Connie@raise your eyes says

    January 3, 2012 at 11:45 pm

    “spirits in winter”…such a sad beauty that finds it way into times like this. And with JESUS, Christmas is ever in your hearts.

  13. kelli- AdventurezInChildREaring says

    January 4, 2012 at 1:29 am

    I am sorry for your pain, glad you got to spend time with your dad, hoping the foot heals! sweet post – may not be a bad thing that you have to slow down not – “be still and know that I am God” He wants to begin the healing:) God bless!

  14. diana says

    January 4, 2012 at 2:50 am

    Yeah – the line about not being able to bear full weight got me good. Yes. And there most certainly is some new beauty sending its lovely tendrils through your writing this winter season – winter in every sense. We’re here at mom’s tonight – she rented us a guest apartment. Tomorrow, we dig into the final prep of packing and sifting and sorting. Sigh. This is what we must do. And it is winter here, even though it was 80 degrees today.

  15. Patricia says

    January 4, 2012 at 8:13 am

    Hi Sandy…

    I agree with Nancy on the deep soul growth taking place through our winter seasons. I’m thankful that while the soul-less trees lay dormant through winter, we have a great and tender God who weaves quiet growth and strength in our soul as he uses the colors of winter, grief, and change to show us his great faithfulness. Sending you love in the waiting. Excited for the 13th.

  16. Shelly Miller says

    January 4, 2012 at 12:31 pm

    Sometimes the work of winter – often the hardest – is the best because it is deep work where things can’t be seen on the surface. We had raclette too for our New Year’s Eve celebration. A family favorite here. Always enjoy your posts!

  17. Cecilia Marie Pulliam says

    January 7, 2012 at 11:17 am

    It is a hard lesson, sorrow, but it deepens the soul, and enlarges our capacity to know simple joys and to offer others compassion and empathy. To know great sorrow allows you to eventually know great joy. I speak from experience.

    The first year after my husband passed was the most painful year of my life. God held my hand, nurtured me, consoled me. He gave me this promise: I believe to see the good things of the Lord in the land of the living. Expect the Lord, do manfully, and let thy heart take courage, and wait thou for the Lord. Psalm 27:13-14.

    Your post is beautifully written, Sandy and the pictures a lovely addition, as always. May your grieving find comfort in Him.

  • Email
  • Facebook
  • Flickr
  • Google+
  • Instagram
  • Pinterest
  • RSS
  • Twitter

Meet Sandra

I’m Sandra, a camera-toting, recovering doer who’s learning to be. still. Read more…

Get updates from the stillness by email

Your personal information is safe and will never be shared.

Archives

Categories

Instagram Inspiration

sandraheskaking

“Truly, we live with mysteries too marvelous to “Truly, we live with mysteries too marvelous to be understood. . . Let me keep company always with those who say “Look!” and laugh in astonishment and bow their heads.” ~ Mary Oliver in “Mysteries, Yes”
🌱
No way could anyone ever convince me that this world in all its beauty and creativity and mysteries is here by accident.
Food truck night with a newcomer—@crepstick. So Food truck night with a newcomer—@crepstick. So yummy! I hope they come back.  But maybe not too often or I’ll have to do double time on the exercise.
“Embrace this day knowing and showing the world “Embrace this day knowing and showing the world that your God is more than enough for you.”
🌿
@tamiheim @tonibirdsong 
In @stickyJesus: How to Live Out Your Faith Online
My flesh and my heart may fail, but God is the str My flesh and my heart may fail, but God is the strength of my heart and my portion.” Psalm 73:26 (ESV)
🌿
I’d almost forgotten what quiet mornings on the patio were like. (Quiet except for the birds and the sound of the neighbor’s AC.)
So yesterday I saw my cardiologist. It was the fir So yesterday I saw my cardiologist. It was the first time he wanted to see me in 6 months instead of a year. He said my aortic stenosis had gotten worse. Like on the cusp of moderate to severe. 😬

So the first thing he asks me is, "How's you daughter?" Wait. Isn't this supposed to be about ME?

Then he asks if I've had any symptoms. "Well, I don't know. Maybe. I felt a little dizzy out of the blue a couple times. And felt like I couldn't catch my breath. I wouldn't have paid any attention if I didn't know I was supposed to be watching for symptoms. I DID walk all over Israel and up a bunch of steep hills, even all the way up to the Golan Heights--against the wind--without anything but normal fatigue.

He laughs. "I created a monster." Ummm, yeah.

"Have you been exercising?" 

"Well, yeah. We walk a couple miles a day. I'm back on my Nordictrack Strider." I didn't tell him I'd been lifting some light weights and some very heavy boxes and other items during this renovation, though I was told in December not to.

So he listens to the beating of my heart. Then he says, "Well, I don't think the valve is ripe yet. I don't expect you to have symptoms for three or four years. You don't need to come back for a year."

Wait! So you ask if I have symptoms. But you don't expect symptoms--yet. And when I do have symptoms, someone is gonna do something. And then I'll be older and maybe weaker. Or what if I have some sudden and silent symptom and boom! And now I have to worry about that. 

(In other news, my oldest grand texts me the other day, and our conversation runs like this...
Last weekend we were in northern Michigan. And the Last weekend we were in northern Michigan. And there were lilacs. They even shook their heads over tornado-induced devastation. Look for the beauty and sweet scents in the midst of the mess. I miss the lilacs.
Yesterday’s morning view. We haven’t seen the Yesterday’s morning view. We haven’t seen the sun all day today.
When the folks in my hometown of Gaylord, Michigan When the folks in my hometown of Gaylord, Michigan ate their breakfast Friday morning, they had no idea what terror and devastation they'd face before dinner. Everyone has a story. You've probably seen pictures.

If not, take a peek at @mlivenews .

My great-nephew, not quite 12, had just gotten home from school when the EF-3 came down the street and left its mark on every home. My niece frantically tried to find her way from work through debris and blocked roads. My sister was 30 miles away visiting my dad in rehab. I don't want to know how fast my brother-in-law drove. 

The house and yard took a hit, worse than some, not as bad as others. A mobile home park was demolished--two deaths there. I heard one person is still missing. So many injured. So much awful. But the town is coming together for each other. Pray for them.

We plan to fly up Thursday--already planned to celebrate my dad's 95th birthday. 

Also, if anyone feels led to help, the Otsego Community Foundation and Otsego County United Way are accepting donations. Note “Tornado Relief.” Beware of any other fundraising requests.
Cutting tonight’s walk short. Stupid blue jay. N Cutting tonight’s walk short. Stupid blue jay. Not this one. A different one. But still. (My niece believes blue jays are a visitation from Grandma—my mom.) 
My shirt says “Walk in love. But I’m not feeling very loving. And if it WAS my Mom AKA Mother Mary Esther of the Order of Perpetual Birdwatchers, I’ll bet she’s having a good laugh. A passerby said she heard it was good luck and I should buy a lottery ticket tonight. In other news, I also banged my hip bone against our bed’s footboard and gave myself a mighty bruise. Then I burned my arm on the top of the grill. I did manage to wash all the knives without cutting myself and didn’t start any fires. So how was your day?
And now… “From the rising of the sun to the pl And now… “From the rising of the sun to the place where it sets, the name of the Lord is to be praised.”
The world’s a mess, but His mercies are new. The world’s a mess, but His mercies are new.
When we were in Israel last month, we visited @yad When we were in Israel last month, we visited @yadvashem - the World Holocaust Center in Jerusalem. There wasn't enough time to spend nearly enough time. 

The Valley of the Communities was very moving. It's a labyrinth of stone from which there seems no way out. Our guide said It gives an idea of the endlessness of the horror. His parents emigrated from Vilna (the Jerusalem of Lithuania), before the Holocaust. In 1935, thirteen of his family members still remained there. By 1945 only one--an uncle--had survived. He wrote a book about them from a bundle of old letters. "One story out of millions."

"This memorial commemorates the Jewish communities destroyed by Nazi Germany and its collaborators, and the few which suffered but survived in the shadow of the Holocaust."
#Israel2022 #HolocaustRemembranceDay
“From my favorite spot on the floor, I look up a “From my favorite spot on the floor, I look up at the blue sky and the bare chestnut tree on whose branches little raindrops shine, appearing like silver, ” Anne Frank wrote in the Diary of a Young Girl. Watching the tree change through the seasons her family spent in hiding in an attic gave her hope. The Holocaust Memorial Center is one of only eleven sites in the United States to receive a sapling from that tree. I stand at “her” window and imagine hanging hope on a tree.

"It happened, therefore it can happen again: this is the core of what we have to say. It can happen, and it can happen everywhere.” ~ Primo Levi

From a post I wrote for @tspoetry after a visit to the @holocaustcenter.

https://www.tweetspeakpoetry.com/2016/07/27/regional-tour-holocaust-memorial-center-farmington-hills-michigan/
Stunning tree I parked near at Bible study yesterd Stunning tree I parked near at Bible study yesterday. I was in a rush and failed to snap the whole tree. I need to run back before the flowers fall. I think it’s a jacaranda? I want one.
Speaking of birds... bluejay in my backyard this a Speaking of birds... bluejay in my backyard this afternoon. I thought he was hurt, but I think he was just trying to cool off. (Maybe it's a young one.... unless it's the light?)
Someone should do something about that dog. She’ Someone should do something about that dog. She’s yelping and carrying on like she’s in some awful pain.
“Now in the place where he was crucified there w “Now in the place where he was crucified there was a new tomb in which no one had yet been laid.” ~ John 19:41

“But the angel said to the women, ‘Do not be afraid, for I know that you seek Jesus who was crucified. He is not here, for he has risen, as he said. Come, see the place where he lay…’”~ Matthew 28:5-6

Many wonder if this tomb, which lies just a few yards west of Golgotha could be the place where Jesus lay and rose. I wish we could have lingered longer here in this garden and in the tomb itself. It was easier for me to imagine the events of that weekend happening here than in the heavily incensed, decorated, dark and crowded Church of the Holy Sepulchre… though my hairdresser said her old boyfriend “got chills”’when he entered that tomb. We did not go inside that one because the line was way too long. 

At any rate, the most important thing is that he tomb is EMPTY and HE IS RISEN!

HAPPY EASTER!
#Israel2022 #GardenTomb #Easter
 “Peter said to him, ‘Lord, I am ready to g 
“Peter said to him, ‘Lord, I am ready to go with you both to prison and to death’ Jesus said, ‘I tell you, Peter, the rooster will not crow this day until you deny three times that you know me.’” ~ Luke 22:33-34

The Church of St. Peter in Gallicantu (rooster crowing) built over what tradition says was the house of Caiaphas where Jesus was brought after he was arrested. Perhaps he was imprisoned in one of the underground crypts while awaiting trial. 

“On top of the church, higher than the cross—I loved this—stands a golden rooster! I’ll never look at a weathervane the same again. How would you like to have a church commemorate your weakest moment?” ~ Wayne Stiles in Walking in the Footsteps of Jesus

#Israel2022 #GoodFriday
The olive trees here are ancient… some carbon da The olive trees here are ancient… some carbon dates to the 12th century, according to my Eyewitness book on Jerusalem. “DNA tests have shown that eight of the trees grew from cuttings from the same mother tree—perhaps taken by Christians who believed the tree to have witnessed Jesus’s agony.” 

Gethsemane means “olive press.” Jesus was pressed to his very depths that night.  He knew what was ahead. He could have run far away. But he went where he knew Judas would look for him. 

“And he withdrew from them about a stone’s throw, and knelt down and prayed, ‘Father, if you are willing, remove this cup from me. Nevertheless, not my will, but yours, be done.’ And there appeared to him an angel from heaven, strengthening him. And being in agony he prayed more earnestly; and his sweat became like great drops of blood falling down to the ground.” ~ Luke 22:41-44

Garden of Gethsemane and Church of the Nations

#Israel2022
A "blue preacher" right outside my door, nearly as A "blue preacher" right outside my door, nearly as tall as I am. I wonder what he's wondering. Is he finding the answer blowing in the wind?

"Watch, now, how I start the day
in happiness, in kindness." ~ Mary Oliver in "Why I Wake Early"
Load More... Follow on Instagram

Get the Mug

Embrace the life you have t s poetry mug

Privacy Policy

Full privacy policy is available HERE.

I Read Light

TSP-Red button

bibledude-net



Sponsor a Child

Join the Compassion Blogger Network

[footer_backtotop]

Copyright © 2022 Sandra Heska King · Site by The Willingham Enterprise, LLC on the Genesis Framework by StudioPress · Log in