On this first day of spring

A journal entry turned prayer turned prose

The following piece began as a private entry in my journal. As I wrote, it morphed into a prayer which then, unintentionally, morphed into poetry-like prose. Although I usually share edited and thoroughly revised work, this is raw and pretty much unedited (as journals are meant to be), but I felt like sharing anyway. Mainly because I hope it blesses those who read it and beckons them to remember that, even in their mild sufferings God is present.

A mild suffering, as defined by me in my journal (since I am convinced such a term does not exist), is a circumstance which troubles or ails us, but does not merit being called a trial. I believe that as humans we experience mild suffering daily—a disagreement with a friend or spouse, untrue thoughts that put a damper on our joy, unmet expectations, to name a few.

Through writing this short entry I was reminded that God is acquainted with the seemingly insignificant details of my life, and that His invitation to “cast your anxieties on Him because He cares for you¹,” applies to them. My prayer is that this prayer becomes yours and carries you into spring feeling light and easy.

Source: Pinterest

On this first day of spring, I am surprisingly feeling gloomy. The sun is out—warming the air's cool touch—and there are but a few clouds in the sky. However, there is in me a feeling of unsettledness, of noise, when all I want is quiet.

Lord, I turn to You to settle me.

I ask you to give me your yoke, which is light. Light enough to, perhaps, be carried off by the breeze—up toward the sun where it can melt away. Make the burdens of my heart so. Catch them as they soar.

What makes my heart tired and heavy laden? I cannot fully put my finger on it.

Maybe it’s the culmination of a winter spent inside. The anxiety swelling within, begging for life. Or maybe it’s the state of my home in dire need of decluttering (which I am dreading). Perhaps, also, it is facing my shortcomings at every turn; my desire to be the “perfect” wife and mother colliding with the reality of its impossibility.

All of these things, oh God, and probably more, trouble me. As I said, I cannot quite put my finger on it.

But You, whose fingers formed the heavens and earth, hold all these troubles in Your hands. Even those I am unable to articulate. Only You, who rustles the trees with a single blow, who gives an end to winter and a beginning to spring… only You can aid me in these mild sufferings.

Therefore, that which bothers me so, I give to You. I let those troubles soar, easy and light as You have promised to make them. I ask to be made this way, too, that the wind may pick me up and bring me closer to You.

“Come to Me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from Me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.” Jesus (Matthew 11:28-30)

1. 1 Peter 5:7