A spring confession

Confession: I don't understand God's timing. Not only do I not understand it, I'm downright annoyed by it.
It all started with fuzzy boots. I love my fuzzy winter boots. They are made of boiled wool which makes them light weight and warm. Perfect for the harsh Erie winters. As much as I love my boots and appreciate the protection they provide I'm always ready top pack them away after months spent bundled up like an eskimo. Even fashionable eskimo apparel gets old.
Come March I begin to countdown the days on the calendar, looking forward to the official start of spring when the temperatures will rise and the snow will melt. I anticipate the shedding of coats, hats and gloves. With great expectations I await the return of stylish slip-ons and colorful ballet flats.
This winter was no different and when Punxsutawney Phil didn't see his shadow, predicting an early spring, I silently prayed the groundhog would, for once, get this one right.
The days in March ticked by and the temperatures ticked upwards. It looked like Phil had prognosticated perfectly. Spring was indeed springing - early! God's timing was looking, in my estimation, practically perfect.
So I did what any cardigan-sweater-loving, ballet-flat enthusiast would do. I packed away my boots. With a smile on my face I marched my fuzzy footwear down the basement steps. See you next November winter wear!
Days passed and spring stuck around. March came and went with little need for fuzz and wool. But then April came and something terrible happened. It snowed. I looked out my window and there it was - white covering the grass, air well below freezing and ice covered cars. I stared at the scene in disbelief. How could this be? This is supposed to be spring. 
What happened to God's perfect timing? I wanted to make a call to the big man upstairs and tell Him to check His calendar. "Hey God, not sure if you flipped to the month of April but it's spring and snow isn't part of that picture." I stopped short of delivering the memo. I figured He was already aware of the meteorological situation down here on earth. Worse yet, I figured He knew this was going to happen long before Phil ever stepped out of his groundhog den and didn't see his shadow. God not only knew all about the weather, He let it happen!
I can't help but wonder why God let it snow in April but not in March? His timing is a mystery to me in more ways then weather. Why has He allowed me to suffer from MS and ill-health for six years? Hasn't He seen that it has been long enough? The timetable of God never ceases to perplex me and, at times, frustrate me.
On that snowy April morning I reluctantly made my way down to the basement and to the box that housed my winter boots. I pulled them out and put them on. I opened the door and made my way out into the frozen spring tundra. I didn't want to be standing in the snow. I didn't want to be driving in the snow. But for some reason I still don't understand, God let it snow. If I wanted to leave the confines of home I had to suck it up and get out in the snow.
Today it is still freezing and it is still April and, yes, I'm still wearing my fuzzy boots. God's timing is still a mystery. But I'm choosing to live fully in the midst of the mystery because God never promised to divulge His plans ahead of time. In fact, He's told me that I won't always understand what He's doing while the plot is unfolding. But He's also promised me this: someday you will understand. I'm living for that day and holding on to that promise. And in the interim I'm wearing my fuzzy boots, thanking God for keeping me warm and protected while I wait for the fullness of His spring to be revealed.