Albeit, the first day of May found the red dirt layered with fresh snow, and the wrinkled buds had refused to show so much as a single shade of green, the current colors flourishing in the woods outside are tending towards spring. We finally invested in a volleyball net, situated it outside in a rare and much-nurtured portion of partially flat terrain, and usually between seven or eight in the evening someone wanders outside and manages to launch an impromptu game, which usually concludes in an assortment of sweat-stained clothes and hair packed with dirt and pine needles and a small sibling or two hollering out accolades for the victorious team. Young jade-colored growths are spearing through the decaying oak leaves, and the sunlight weaves a kaleidoscope of variegated shadows on the forest floor. The soil is currently spangled with wildflowers, and dozens of offerings from my little sister seem to have a habit of finding new homes in our room, where they produce a quaint country effect and a phenomenal amount of allergy-provoking pollen.
Such is the personality of spring, and every day seems to explode with an extra portion of beauty that the one preceding it didn't possess.
Life is still life, and I am still me, and the Lord is still the same, yesterday, today, and forever. I quit my job the last week of April and just last week received hire for a new one, and the change provided me with time to complete a fifteen-month project, the culmination of a private dream I always aspired to make reality, but lacked the necessary time and patience and inspiration. (more on that later) I slept in far too many mornings, brewed much too many cups of coffee for one rational human being (though the rational part is up for debate) did things with our church, with friends, and sometimes just by myself, which, for a solitary soul, is the pinnacle of therapy. I'm trying to cultivate less of a selfish attitude and give more of myself and my time to the people in my life, but after the sun sets, I obtain delight in finding a quiet piece of God's earth and just thinking. Life is so short. So serious. Lacking the time it takes to invest yourself in pursuits that won't matter tomorrow.
Which has led me to consider an adventure that, five months ago, couldn't have been more distant from my everyday sphere of thought. But, I'm not spilling the details. Not yet. Let's just say that this summer is going to be a special one, and after that? I don't even want to think about it sometimes. It's a terrifying thought even on my good days, but like my mom loves to say, "fear knocked, faith answered, and there was nobody there."
And today is beautiful, my family is eating strawberry pie in the kitchen and hoping I'll rip myself off the internet to join them, and life is a precious gift. Not one we dare squander, because one day, it won't be ours anymore.
" . . . we get so worried about being pretty. let's be pretty smart. pretty kind. pretty strong. "