Who would set the sun, moon, and stars in the heavens to give us astronomical signs to guide our days, months, and years only to give us the winds and waters to disrupt those same seasons? Who would make a world that is tilted ever so slightly, just enough off balance that He’s needed to balance it?
Think of it, an entire cosmos designed to teach you this one thing: to trust Him and Him alone. An entire cosmos designed to teach you faith.
Turning of Days p. 40
Hannah Anderson says right before this that it is the season’s constancy, not their variability that is the most mysterious thing about them: we may wonder when spring will arrive, but we never wonder if it will.
Not many days ago, I could see from where I am sitting all across the valley to the ridge beyond. Now there is a wall of green. It happened gradually: in fact the green leaves closest to me now are hiding burned and shriveled leaves that came out too soon and are still hanging dead from a late frost. I can’t tell you which day completed the wall of green. Whichever tree started first is now irrelevant. Everyone has caught up; each tree does its part to block my view. And I have sat here morning after morning and watched it all happen. Like the growing of a child is the coming of late spring.
Lingering Over Leaves 