Most people think that spring is a good time for forgiveness. Everything in the world is new and growing, and the pain of winter can be forgotten. Can be forgiven. But spring has always felt too fragile to me for taking such an important step. In spring, heavy rains can come and wash away hopeful growth. One day is warm, the next is cold, the fluctuation confusing and disheartening. The nights, still long, can leave frost come morning. I’ve never truly trusted spring. Forgiveness requires steadiness. Reliability. It needs to burn through you until there’s no doubt the past sin, the chill of
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