Everywhere Holy: Seeing Beauty, Remembering Your Identity, and Finding God Right Where You Are by Kara Lawler

Author:Kara Lawler
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollinsChristianPublishing
Published: 2019-09-29T16:00:00+00:00

That spring, I was so fixated on the tulips as they popped up in our flower beds. Despite snow only weeks prior, they bloomed in the splendor I’ve grown accustomed to—shades of red and yellow mostly, but there were a few purples scattered about. Like the daffodils a few weeks ahead of them, they reminded me of life. And I was reminded that nature, just like children, will always guide us if we let it. People, life, and flowers usually end up blossoming after the cold passes. I’ve found this to be true for me, countless times over.

Mike planted the red tulips for me and the color of them against the very green grass stunned me when they bloomed. He knew how much I loved them and took a picture with his phone and texted it to me. And in that gesture, I was reminded of something else: relationships of the heart seem like this to me—a cycle of seasons, but always whispering holy if we listen closely enough.

Sometimes relationships go through their own falls, where parts of them seem like they are dying. Slowly, like the leaves that fall, marriages sometimes have their own falling leaves—disagreements, financial troubles, health issues, just to name a few. When you’re stuck in the fall of a marriage or partnership, it can feel hopeless—all aflutter, and the sure things you thought you had all nailed down and secure blow away with one swift movement of the breeze’s arm. But the leaves are so very beautiful as they fall and you know that the trees will only be bare for a time. So you wait.

Winter comes and it’s quiet. Brooding and cold and all you want to do is huddle under a blanket by your fireplace. But still, there’s the snow, right outside your window, falling in a beautiful display—glistening, white, covering fences and time and all of it. You see the beauty is still very much alive even if the grass isn’t, and somehow it’s just so stunning. You take a deep breath of that cold air, the kind that clears your nostrils, and you get out the shovels and you dig out, creating paths back to one another, wearing your snow boots to keep your feet warm and dry, knowing warm air is on its way. You know it. You’ve been here before. You’re no stranger. You hold hands to keep them warm and you wait.

And then the snow melts and the creek becomes so very alive with the extra water—gushing! I say to the kids and I spread my arms wide and they laugh—it’s so loud now. I can hear it from inside the house and I love the sound. The grass gets greener by the day and the daffodils bloom, despite the lingering snow, despite the ominous clouds. I’m amazed at all the sudden green of the fields and mountains and there are days I simply live to breathe in the musky air from the freshly cut grass. And then, there’s the red tulip.

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