Thursday, March 17, 2016

Spring Always Comes

I put on my husband's parka this morning and ran out in the pale light to set the recycling on the curb. My slippers shattered ice crystals that had formed on the steps over night and I could see my breath in front of me. But the air on my face didn't feel cold, it felt refreshing  a welcome breath of life.  As I walked back up our sidewalk I saw the green leaves of our day lilies sprouting out of the ground, pushing up through the dead leaves of last fall. And I realized, spring is coming!


There has been a winter in my soul. I think it has to do with the craziness of life right now. Grad school, running my studio, two babies, a million appointments, feeling like there is no time for quiet reflection, no time to spend with my husband, no time to take care of myself. We've been in survival mode for far too many months.

I think it also comes from attitudes I can't let go of. A sense of entitlement when things don't go my way. A lack of charity because, your life couldn't possibly be as difficult as mine. A lack of patience, kindness, gentleness, self-control, all that good fruit that is so hard to cultivate.

I have not been feeling the consolation of the Holy Spirit that I so long to feel. I'm sure some of it is me  I'm not growing my prayer life the way that I should be. Mass is an exercise in creative toddler bribing. Spiritual reading is what I do when I can't fall asleep because, well, it gets the job done. But I think some of it is also that I am no longer a child at camp. I'm not going to have a mountain top experience every time I sing a song of praise or quiet my heart in prayer, but that doesn't mean I should stop praying and praising.

The Holy Spirit is still moving in my heart, even though I can't always feel it.

The green leaves are pushing their way up through cracked, dry dirt, and dead leaves, long before  they make their way to the surface.

Spring is coming, just like it came last year, just like it comes after every winter. Just like morning comes after every night. Just like Easter comes after every Good Friday.


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post script:

The last couple of times I've posted something melancholic I've had friends check in with me to see if I'm ok.  I just want to let you know that I'm fine. Life is a bit stressful, and some days get a little crazy, but writing about it is one of the ways I process and relax. So thanks for reading, and caring. 

2 comments:

  1. An "exercise in creative toddler bribing" ...I love that! I'm right there with you on that too. And also the bit about no longer being a child at camp. My most formative spiritual experiences were made at Christian summer camp... Part of me wonders whether I'll ever have an experience like that again, and part of me is sure that I never will - so I have this odd feeling of grief over experiences lost mixed with hope for something richer and truer to come. Do you think that's possible?

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  2. Beautiful words. Great faith. Way to persevere!

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