It isn’t just the cabin fever. The raucous noise level in our home with these four children gifted with high spirits and lots of energy. The fact that even outdoor excursions produce indoor explosions of drippy boots, tracked-in mud, sopping wet mittens, and jackets drying over the backs of dining room chairs. It isn’t just that.
It’s my weak heart, my weak faith, see. I need that tangible, visual evidence that there’s hope, rebirth, renewal, life again. That under fall’s leaf scatter, under winter’s hard white, life will again muscle its way up through all that, and thrive. It is my favorite season; all that freshness and garden hose spray and flowers and thunder storm majesty. It’s the whole world waking up with a smile.
Oh, what a Lent. Next Monday I’ll be able to share with you what has weighed us down so, what has sapped our joy and left us needing Spring in our very marrow. Until then, oh, please pray.