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Winter Nakedness

Bare limbs, stripped of all their cover.   Wooden sticks line the streets, all looking somewhat like upside down root systems.  Silently they stand tall, stiffly swaying with the occasional gust of wind.  Completely vulnerable to whatever falls from the sky, be it snow or pounding rain.  Seemingly, the trees are in their winter hibernation, just sleeping time away, but maybe not.  Could there be something new happening on the inside?

I walk my morning route with Jasmine by my side, totally focused only on getting to eat blades of fresh green grass, and oblivious to anything higher than her knee high vision.  But my sight is captivated with the trees that remind me of my own winter sabbatical.  I am just as naked as the branches.  I too have lost my covering of health and wellness, of working as a Nurse Practitioner, and being the caretaker of my family and patients.  Pride has vanished, humble acceptance is my embrace as I am the vulnerable patient waiting for the final verdict and outcome of my disease state.  

Tomorrow I will find out about the course of chemotherapy.  I recognize it as a deadly toxin that has purpose in perhaps restoring inward health to me as it defeats any lingering cancer cells.  The good news with the recent surgical exploration is that no further cancer was visualized, for which I am forever grateful that God is indeed healing me.  But even stating that sentence finds me still wondering, will I be able to endure this particular season of winter's sting and harshness?  

Then I look again at those wonderful trees.  They patiently wait, with their branches upward, bravely taking in all that winter brings.  They soak up the rain, they grow even in the cold, and they glisten in the morning sunshine.  Yes, there is a newness that is forming inwardly, something I cannot see with my eyes, but it is there. . . 

I am watching the rain pound small puddles into our pool.  Gazing up to our Juniper trees, I see my Restoration Rose.  This rosebush had been given to me over 20 years ago by one of my very first patients.  It is one of my favorite red roses, Mr. Lincoln.  Year after year it has produced beautiful and fragrant deep red roses.  However, this past year with persistent dry and hot weather in triple digits, it seemed dead.  It was mostly a woody base, and only two spindly, thorny stems, with a few lingering burnt leaves.  I was ready to dig it up, and put in a new bush.  But something started happening just when I had given up all hope.  The winter rain seemed to surge through it with new life, as it now is thick with green foliage and even producing a bright red rosebud.  Such a reminder for me each day, to never give up hope!

Winter nakedness may just be my restoration.  It just may be my newness, not only in body, but in my mind and heart. . .

"We are led to see that suffering is only intended as a means towards spiritual education, and is only used because through it alone can some parts of our nature be vitally and redeemingly touched.  The suffering thus acquires a new character because it is invested with a new purpose. . . It is suffering as an education, as a severity edged with mercy." 
(Dr. Joseph Parker, The People's Bible, p.44)
   

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