It’s true that when it rains, it pours.
Or maybe in the midst of great loss, when we are at our most raw and vulnerable, we feel things with greater clarity but less coping skills.
I don’t know.
But I can tell you that in this month of sorrow, life has gone on. Annie graduated Pre-K, which means come the Fall, I’ll have three kids in all day school, three kids doing homework, three kids playing sports.
I made a major job decision that requires 150 hours of licensing.
And two weeks from now, I am in charge of Vacation Bible School, a function of my asking the director of ministries at our church “Hey, why don’t we have VBS?”
“No one to run it, ” she said. Then she crossed her arms, raised an eyebrow, and waited.
That’s worth a reflection. Months and months ago, God told me to say yes to VBS, even though he knew that at this very moment, my heart would be broken. I am on the lookout for why. Be where you’re supposed to be when you’re supposed to be there and God will do the rest.
Which leads me to this post.
This is our third Spring in Oregon, the place we believe we were called to move. The previous two Springs have been pretty and worthy of note.
But this Spring? This particular Spring that has been so, so hard?
This Spring has been MAGNIFICENT.
The sound of the wind in the leaves outside the kitchen window. The tulips and hyacinth that surprised us in April. The tree that leaved into a giant sentinel in the backyard.
The lemon balm that sprouted in the garden area, good for stress and anxiety.
The green hills and full creeks. Fields full of calves and lambs. Poppies. Dogwood. And sweet Mother, the roses.
Can I tell you how Sue loved her roses?
I didn’t even realize how much I was relying on the nature around me to soothe my heart until Saturday, when I was sitting at the winery five minutes from my house and this view brought me to tears.
And then I thought about how many times in the last few weeks, Gabe has said “Mom, it is so pretty here.” Or Annie has picked some lemon balm and walked around the house, breathing it in. How the girls headed out to the backyard with their friend Sarah to cut fresh bouquets of roses for our families.
All of those things bringing simple and pure joy.
This Spring has sheltered and fed and lightened us, a bountiful grace for which I am thankful.
You, Lord, keep my lamp burning; my God turns my darkness into light.