Monday, March 12, 2012

the things we carried and humanity made beautiful

Currently intoxicated with the signs of spring, whether winter is over or not.  Fresh rainy air streaming in windows, still claiming a slight chill, but delicious when mixed with the right amount of sunshine.  Soon the dull canvas of dirty brown will come alive with green and the birds will welcome it with their song.

Until living in Minnesota, I never fully gave spring the credit it deserves, that magic it declares to the world, the power it has to bring the earth back life after the oppression of winter.

We’re moving in two weeks and all the work is happening, little by little.  I’m almost delirious at the idea of no longer having inconsiderate neighbors playing basketball upstairs at four in the morning to accompany the loud drunken noise from the ones below.  And the beauty of having our own laundry room again, after one year and nine months plus a yard, glorious green space to spend hours and hours just beyond our door.  I already see blankets under the shade of trees, kids playing and iced coffee. 

The process of searching was incredibly draining, unsure if it would be a local move or to another state, but in addition to that, given our simple budget, I was certain we’d find ourselves in another apartment situation, giving up the extras that we so desperately wanted.  I carried around a great cloud of apprehension as I didn’t want to face the disappointment that might come, if that was the case.  How terribly human of me.

In the days after signing our lease, I began to realize how I had made it harder on myself by carrying this burden, because our prayers, they are not wasted words spoken into the void.  The truth is that there is no void, no space where God does not hear our pleas and recognize the softest whispers of our heart’s desire.  He knows.  And in thinking about our new place, I see the answer to each one of those needs and wishes.

Often, we pick up a burden we were never intended to carry, we buckle and feel all the impossibilities and this is too hard, but when we are done trying, the fog clears and we see the presence of the one who was in control all along.   

The presence that takes our frail humanity, a character so tragically flawed and pens the most beautiful stories.

Stories impossible for us to create on our own.

1 comment:

Here's the thing: I love your comments.
So thank you.

Have a lovely day.
Drink some coffee.