On Saturday I noticed most of our treetops were greening up. It’s about time! The fresh canopy is rapidly filing in. Songbirds are busy building nests. The bugs are back, too. Within a few weeks we’ll enjoy a bounty of blossoms and blooms.
I’ve surveyed my garden and feel quite satisfied with its recovery from the long winter. Peony stalks are shooting tall, reclaiming front-and-center positions. Clematis returned with vigor, prepared to conquer the corner trellis. My “Rosie” white rose bush is leafing out, thankfully — a treasured transplant from the old house. Japanese lilacs are budding despite fierce winds that nearly knocked them over. Even pokey-slow hydrangea are getting into the swing of it. The hibiscus will keep me guessing for another couple of weeks. In a carefully sheltered but shady spot, it is slower to revive. Everything seems to be just about where it should be.
If only all of the disarrayed pieces of our lives would sort out so quickly! The past few months account for an unusually disruptive season. Now I’m building a new business (NorthCountrySolutions.US) and pitching in on farm administration while the Hubs and boys rebuild from a barn fire. I’m usually quite comfortable with ambiguity but this has all been a bit much. I’d prefer our pathway mapped in high def, if you please. Right now I’d settle for a crayon sketch!
“Patience is a virtue,” my piano teacher liked to say. How about a shortcut to a virtue now and again? No, we have to earn each the old-fashioned way. It’s all too easy to become overwhelmed and out of sorts when disruption seems the rule of the day. My patience has run thin. Note to self: You have no control over challenges of this day. Give it up! No wonder the edges of your peace have become frayed. You control only you. Stay true.
And we know that God causes everything to work together for the good of those who love God and are called according to his purpose for them. Romans 8:28
I resolve to restore balance as best I can. I breathe in deeply the lilies and roses of a lush Mother’s Day bouquet; fresh cut grass; hyacinth; sun-kissed toddler; slightly smushed dandelions. I enjoy a quiet dinner and hoppy brew flavored with happy memories enhanced by lakefront views. I savor the sweetness of a grandgirl’s laugh. I hold a small hand in my own; I take smaller steps. I tip my face fully into the sunshine. I listen more closely to that still, small voice. I extend forgiveness. I give thanks. I look for signs of hope. I treasure the treasures of spring.