Hope

I love this photo. This is my cool niece and my youngest daughter. The little guy in my niece's hand is her dear, departed...er, um, gecko? Giant lizard? Iguana? I have no idea what it is but I know that she loved it, this ugly reptile, because she's cool like that. But sadly, the little guy didn't survive the move they recently made from Texas to Louisiana. RIP, Jasmine.

What I love about this picture is the girls' faces. So full of joy and well, goofiness. Just hangin' out...with a lizard...posing. And having fun. With a lizard. That's all. Because when you're young, you do that. You find joy in the moment. You find joy in almost everything because you see joy. You are joy, embodied.

We lose that as adults. Oh, sure we might grab a moment here and there but it's quickly put to rest because responsibility calls. Laundry, dinner, grocery shopping, repairs, you name it, we have to get it done right now. And with good reason because if we don't, tomorrow's work load will be twice as heavy. Sadly though, most of the time when I do get everything done for the day that I've set out to do, then I'm too tired to rest. I know that sounds insane but I mean rest in the way the Bible talks about rest. Rest as in, to savor. To soak it all in and know that things are good. That it is well with my soul. Rest, as in, peace.

That's why I love, adore, and anxiously await spring. I am reminded to rest. Those beautiful buds, the extra daylight, the warmth, the singing birds that come home again! The promise that's reflected in nature all around us that all things are renewed. That life ends and begins everyday. And with that, the hope that we, too, are renewed. The hope that we end, and begin life, in many ways, during our days here on earth. The promise that every dark, cold, dreary winter will end and a new season will begin. And that yes, there will be also be constants in all of this change...that tree in the backyard may look different at times, but it's still there. Still my tree. Naked in the winter, but fully dressed in glorious color in the spring.

So, bring on the changes. Let life bring what it will. My family is my constant. Even though they are always growing, ending, but also beginning, they are what keeps me grounded.

It's spring. And I don't understand how the whole world isn't outside screaming, "It's SPRING!" in one thunderous, joyful voice. But then again, I think they are.

Can you hear it?