Heavy winter snow finally turns to rain, releasing itself to spring’s thaw.Rapidly melting piles of plowed snow create a steady stream of water running down the hill and across the city street, softening any hard winter earth that it reaches.
This rapid flow and random softening mirror what has been going on in my heart this season, and at 11:49 pm, March 9, 2015, during the first wake of the night, I type the above writing prompt quickly into the Notes app on my phone.
Write. I remind myself, returning to sleep.
The thing is, I don’t write, at first. I forget. Put off. Will get to it later. I let the tears and the tension pile up. I remain cold and distant. I stay frozen inside. Heavy piles of emotional snow heap up where I have tried to haphazardly shovel the pathway to my heart on my own, by myself, before giving up and shutting down.
There’s too much. It’s too heavy. I can’t do this.
Release isn’t easy for one who would rather hang on and control and figure out alone. It involves opening up and allowing in and sharing honestly from the hard, stuck, frozen places. I do it, though. I pick up the phone to call and reach out and keep trying until someone answers or calls back.
It takes a few tries, but the right person calls back immediately, hearing my heart, speaking warm words of truth, breathing life into the frozen places, helping to clear that haphazard pathway. She affirms what I am feeling and names what I cannot. Tears begin to flow, releasing all that has been held back.
I allow those tears to rain down and soften my frozen heart and begin to experience the hope of rebirth.
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Julie McClay lives in Virginia’s beautiful Shenandoah Valley with her high school sweetheart (and husband of 23 years) and 5 of their 8 children. She is learning that while it can be painful to face the past honestly while living in the moment and looking towards the future, it can be healing and lead to eh the hope of a brighter future. She digs through these thoughts and feelings here.
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Thank you so much for sharing. May Jesus continue to freely lead you to release your tears of frustration on your way to more growth & joy.
Thank you for reading and for your encouraging words. I continue to be amazed at the way God continues to grow me in spite of myself. I am grateful.
Your words “digging a pathway to my heart” – sometimes it feels just like that. I hear hope in your writing this morning. Thank you for choosing to write.
Thank you for choosing to read and for sharing such kind feedback. I am grateful for hope and for those who help me to hold it when I feel it slipping away. I am grateful for spring and it’s thaw.
Thank you, Julie for allowing the beauty of your heart to flow. I love your analogy of the frozen ground and your heart and the thawing of both. Keep writing, my friend! Love, MJ
Your words offer such encouragement when those nagging doubts tap on the shoulder. I appreciate you taking the time to share them.Thank you for your role in helping me thaw and grow and learn to risk and receive. What a gift I was given.
Affirms what I am feeling and names what I cannot—- only a real friend can do that. Praying that as women, in search of validation from above, we not only have friends like that but that we are that friend. Thank you for your words today.
Yes. To be that friend. I am grateful for the women in my life who have loved me through the mess and been patient and kind with my guarded heart. They have helped me to learn and grow and risk being that friend to others. Thank you for reading and responding. I am thankful.
Thanks for sharing your heart and your journey of hope, Julie. Without the winter of life, I wonder if Spring would seem so miraculous? Your writing reflects beauty from pain, and you reflect such physical, spiritual and emotional parallels and truths! Enjoyed reading!
Thank you for walking with me and for encouraging me in growth. You are a blessing, Beth!
Shoveling the snow that lays frozen is hard work, impossible to get it all cleared with some warmth coming to melt what is most frozen, down underneath. I love the kindness you showed yourself in reaching out until you connected with a friend. So good. Thanks for the reminder Julie.
I love that you picked up on the kindness to myself part in reaching out. That was a difficult piece, not going into contempt for needing someone or reading into why certain friends were “unavailable” but staying open and present to the fact that there is a friend sticking closer than a brother to me even if no one answers. The right person returned my call and the conversation was exactly what I needed to hear in the moment. Thank YOU for your kindness and understanding here.