I take a deep breath and lift the 110-year-old window. Its wavy glass, shaped from decades of letting the light in, is covered in smudges from sticky little hands and wet dog noses. I run my finger along the windowsill, noticing a new patch of peeling paint, and sigh, letting go of my breath and my expectations for a spotless home.
The midday sun peeks through after a long winter, warming my face with the promise of spring. A burst of fresh air blows into the house as a beam of light catches dust motes dancing in the air.
I scan the sunroom, soaking in its imperfections — the missing strip of crown molding, the pile of teenager sneakers by the door, the sticky toy still clinging to the ceiling after my youngest son’s enthusiastic toss.
The coat tree, heavy with puffy parkas and knitted scarves, catches my eye. Should I pack them away, or will a surprise spring snowstorm remind us that winter isn’t quite finished?
Pushing aside a handful of markers left on the couch, I sink into the worn cushion. The hum of the furnace is finally silent, replaced by fresh air flowing from outside. I breathe it in, slow and deep, letting my breath become a prayer of its own.
I replay my dream from the night before about the magnolia trees that flank our home. In my dream, the trees’ blossoms burst forth in brilliant shades of pink, proclaiming spring had arrived.
When I woke up, I tiptoed downstairs like a child on Christmas morning, excited to see what might be waiting for me. But instead of spotting the fullness of spring, I found bare branches still holding brown buds.
Sometimes, the winters of our lives linger too long. We ache for the green hope of spring, the blue skies of summer, or the golden abundance of fall.
This season — this in-between space — feels like a pause I’d rather skip. It’s hard for me to be present between the dead of winter and the new life of spring.
I want to leap to the glory of Easter without the solemn waiting of Lent.
I’m aware of my tendency to measure myself by invisible expectations, getting caught up in the shoulds that echo in my mind. I should set aside more time for prayer. I should have a cleaner house. But beneath the surface shoulds lie the deeper ones: I should be a more devoted Christian. I should be better. At everything.
Cool air drifts through the open window, carrying the faint scent of thawing earth. I glance at the trees’ bare branches swaying in the breeze and remember that trees are always working beneath the soil.
While the growth above ground pauses during winter, their roots continue to soak up nutrients, growing slowly but steadily. Even when branches appear lifeless, the roots draw water and nutrients from the ground, storing energy for the burst of spring growth to come.
Dormancy doesn’t mean growth isn’t happening.
And that’s true for me and you, too.
It’s easy to forget that beneath all the shoulds of our lives, we are rooted in love.
In Ephesians 3:16-19, Paul writes to the church: “I pray that out of his glorious riches he may strengthen you with power through his Spirit in your inner being, so that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith. And I pray that you, being rooted and established in love, may have power, together with all the Lord’s holy people, to grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ, and to know this love that surpasses knowledge—that you may be filled to the measure of all the fullness of God” (NIV).
Just as roots anchor a tree and nourish its branches, God cares for us — rooting us in love and nurturing our souls amid our imperfections and insecurities. Psalm 1:3 reminds us that we can be like trees planted by streams of water, which yield their fruit in season.
And when we release the shoulds that weigh us down — the compulsion to have it all together, to do more, to be more — we create space for God’s perfect love to nurture and nourish us, too.
Spotless homes and impeccable prayer records aren’t fruits of the Spirit. When we sit in the transitional seasons of our lives, we can trust that the Holy Spirit is at work within us, nurturing love, joy, peace, and patience — fruits that will bloom in their season (Galatians 5:22-23).
In this season of Lent, we wait. We trust that the work happening beneath the surface will lead to something beautiful in its time.
What season are you in right now? What is your soul aching for? Are you longing to see growth where it feels like nothing is happening?
As you reflect, let your breath become a prayer.
INHALE: O God, even when I can’t see it,
EXHALE: You are working within me.
Kayla, this is written so beautifully, pointing us to the most important things…the depths of God himself.
But I have to say this line —
“Spotless homes and impeccable prayer records aren’t fruits of the Spirit”
is something millions of tired mamas need to hear!
xo
Aw, thanks for reading, Robin! And yes…preaching to myself that reminder today as my house is in complete chaos over spring break. 😉 Can’t wait to see you soon!
This is such a timely and beautiful encouraging to me. Thank you ♥️
Thank you so much for reading, Dee. Grateful these words find you today!
*Found you! 🙂
What a beautiful devotional! For years I’ve been encouraging my husband, who is a worship leader and songwriter, to record a full length CD of his own songs. In 2009 my husband recorded a little 2 song CD, and my sister encouraged him to send a copy of his CD to an Albany NY Christian radio station. They were looking for local artists to submit music. We did this and they chose my husband’s music to feature on their radio station for one week. That was about 15 years ago. We were overjoyed that God was using his beautiful music to bless people. I long for my husband to record a full length CD, to see how God might want to use it. He thinks he’s too old. I’m thankful God uses his music to bless the homeless at shelters as he goes to shelters each month to share worship music and the Gospel. God truly loves the poor. For now I will just keep praying, keep seeking the Lord daily and wait, and work on growing in the Lord.
Thank you for sharing this beautiful story! What a gift that your husband’s music has already touched so many lives—what a testament to God’s faithfulness. I love that he continues to use his gifts to bring worship and encouragement to others. And I love your faithfulness, too—praying, waiting, and trusting. Nothing is wasted in God’s hands! Thank you again for taking the time to share, Amber!
Dear Kayla……I always love when I see that you have written the devotion for the day. Your words always make me think deeply about what your words mean. This season has seemed especially long for me. I know that a am loved by The Lord and I know that often we must be patient and wait, but this season, I am really having a difficult time and at my age ( 77), I wonder whether I have enough time left for these very serious situations to resolve in whatever way God has planned. I pray so often during the day and longer at night before I try and get some sleep. I have cast my burdens to Jesus and God’s feet to take care of, but I just finish doing that and find some more peace and love, when the next problem drops on me. I think, I can’t do one more thing as I am weary and feel beaten down. At 35, I would have been able to handle such things, but as I grow older, it seems so much harder. I live in a facility with over 100 people who are 80 years up to over 100 years old. They do not know what I have been through and I know they would not understand as almost all of them have some level of dementia and loss of hearing. I have been the one to go to them to try and help them. I slip encouraging cards under their apartment doors and I have even given some money as they keep raising our rent and they are out of money. I have always down this from the time as a teenager. Some of the managers that I worked for have told me very kind that they think that I can be generous to a fault as I never think of myself. I live in a 1 bedroom apartment, alone. I have no one but you women in the (incourage) community to tell my stories. I lean on you as well as God, but you are human beings and though I know and trust God, Jesus and my wonderful Holy Spirit who is with me always and guides me when I am overwhelmed. I truly love the paragraph where you say about in this season of Lent, we wait and trust that what is going on behind the scene that it will become something beautiful. This gives me hope that a am so in need of looking at the piles of papers laying in my apartment. So Kayla, I thank you of the story about the trees ( very relatable ) and the whole story about them. The Breath suggestion is perfect and years ago, that is just what I did and now I will start to do that again. I wish you a blessed rest of the week and thank you for “listening to me”. There is so much more, but I have held you up too long already. My prayers will include you and your family. I have no family. They have abandoned me and it hurts, down deep in my heart and soul. Kayla, you have given all of us to read and think about. I will read it again after lunch when I can really think about it……….Betsy Basile
Betsy, thank you for sharing your heart. I’m holding your words with care today. You have been carrying so much, and I can only imagine how exhausting this season must feel. I just want to say—you are not forgotten. Even when it doesn’t feel like it, you are seen and loved, both by our God and by this in(courage) community. We are grateful you are here, and I’m honored that my words connected with you. It means so much that you took the time to share your heart, and please know we hold it with care.
The way you care for those around you—slipping notes under doors, giving what you can, offering kindness even when you feel unseen—says so much about your heart. What a gift you are to the people around you. But I hear the ache, too. Sending you so much love today.
I pray you feel God’s love pouring back into you, just as you pour it out for others.
Lifting you in prayer, Betsy. You are loved.
With love,
Kayla
Betsy, may you know that you are heard and seen in this community. What a blessing you are to the others in your facility.
Amen Maura! I agree. Betsy, I pray for you when I see your posts.
Well said, Maura!
I am in another season of depression and anxiety plus I have a debilitating back condition. God bless my wonderful husband who has to do most everything for me. I am 78 and very lonely and miss my friends, but Jesus is my best friend and companion. I look to Him for everything. God bless all of you today and forever with His love, healing and Peace!
Donna, thank you for sharing your heart here. I’m so sorry for the heaviness you’re carrying, and I’m praying that you feel God’s deep love and comfort in the midst of it. What a gift that your husband is by your side, and what a beautiful testimony that even in loneliness, you are leaning on Jesus as your constant companion. You are not forgotten—you are seen, loved, and held by the One who never lets go. May that peace surround you today and always. Sending you love and prayers.