SPRING 2019

In Colorado in spring daffodils bloom. Snow falls. Daffodils heads are plunged into the cold white blanket. Rarely do they ever return their gaze to the sun. More times than not, their blooms remain down for the duration of their short lives.

It always makes me sad. I want to see them return to their former glory. As usual, this year twenty daffodils bloomed. The next day 3 inches of snow fell on them. Not one has lifted their head.  I don’t want to be like the beautiful daffodil although I wait all year to see their beauty.

I want to be more like the tree. It waits. Its gnarly branches endure winter. It weathers the wind and cold. It sees spring is here. It does not change. It waits. The factory is open on the inside beginning production of coming out of hibernation. But on the outside it waits. Its branches rise above the trunk. It is prepared for leaves. It waits. It waits until the right moment. Then it is glorious. Leaves drink in the sunshine. It lasts throughout the end of spring, all summer, and into fall.  

Then Jesus said to them, “I ask you, which is lawful on the Sabbath; to do good or to do evil, to save life or to destroy it?”

Inspiration Falling

On a cold and wintery day like today I sit in front of the computer and write. With a cup of tea on my desk and my fingers typing like there is no tomorrow. Inspiration falling over my shoulders. Doesn’t that sound lovely?

But the reality is much different—papers cluttered all over my desk. Dust on every vertical surface that is not already covered. Books haphazardly jutting out at all angles under various papers. An essay I’m working on glaring at me. My Spanish lesson begging to be recited and memorized. 

I’ve just polished off the last dregs of bunny tracks ice cream. I hear the wind howling through a small crack in the window above me as the cold air forces me to put on another sweater.

Snow is falling outside. Not the beautiful Christmas kind, but the mean hard cold pellets that announce the date of the first day of Spring may be drawing near but winter has its hold over us still for months.   

And yet, I’m loving today. Loving the moment. Loving being able to write. Hoping for inspiration but realizing writing is more hard work than anything else. Everyone has a story. But I have this moment. And in it I’ll write my story. It is truly a wonderful day.

But he knows the way that I take; when he has tested me, I will come forth as gold. My feet have closely followed his steps; I have kept to his way without turning aside. Job 23:10:11