My front door now pops with Spring. I found a bargain moss basket as well as dainty greenery and flowers to put inside for the “Welcome” metal art piece. Even a little nest with the florals. The birds had pecked at the wreath I had placed on the door for the past three Springs, looking rather bald on one side. Time for replacing and refreshing with different textures and colors. Is not that what Spring is? Renewal.
“In the spring time, the only pretty ring time, when birds do sing, hey ding a ding, ding; sweet lovers love the spring.”
William Shakespeare, As You Like It
It was time for our Spring fling. My husband and I love road trips, short ones and long. This time only 2 hours from home for a town and country weekend away. Spring rains follow us to a Swedish-style hideaway. Hygge at its best, we find Spring with the frogs’ croaks, bird tweets, flowering plum trees, and tender green sprigs sprouting in the woods. Using my hooded poncho and Dean the umbrella, we keep somewhat dry walking to the welcoming forsythia-wreathed door. We fiddle with the door code, breathing each other’s space, and finally figure out the magic touch. Inside a string of lights on a tree and small table lamp greet us this rainy afternoon. Dean fetches our remaining bags and hung clothes. I remove my wet poncho and find a hook to hang it on to dry. My packed throw in our luggage quickly becomes the desired item to snuggle up into after our short excursion in the Spring rain. Dean joins me on the comfy couch for a short nap until our dinnertime plans.
That perfect weekend leads us to another work week. Taught a spring baking class one evening. I recently trained for a full-time human resources position and felt it not a good fit. The training was meager as well as too different from what my previous experience had been with employee benefits. I had a difficult time retaining the necessary details due to this stressful time, many sleepless nights. A week after I had started this position my daughter and family’s house burned down. And Dean’s mother suffered a stroke that just about killed her last month. More adequate housing arrangements have been made for them.
I spend time in the quiet. Being still. Each day listening to the songbirds outside our cottage home’s windows. Gleaning a word or two in the Holy Scriptures. Praying. This week I think about Mary, Martha, and Lazarus. Mary’s belief in Jesus. The miracle, He raised Lazarus, Mary’s and Martha’s brother from the dead. The stench of death did not permeate. Jesus made anew, fresh Life when it seemed hopeless. My Jesus, make fresh Life for my daughter and her family. Make fresh Life for my mother-in-law and father-in-law in their new home setting. Make fresh Life in me.
Woman Warrior 