I hopped on just now with something pressing on my mind, only to realize that the last time I wrote was the first day of February. How fitting it feels to be back on this last day of a leap year February, twenty nine days in to a historically dreary and wintry month here in the midwest.
It’s been a mild winter, sure, but we’ve still had our share of snow-piled, sunless days, and (like most) I am more than ready for spring.
I woke up to Monday this morning with no particular sense about the day. I knew we’d head to school, that I’d have a few hours before pick up, and that we’d launch into another busy week after a weekend we’re already all missing at home. What I didn’t expect was the spiritual muck I’d encounter somewhere between the school parking lot and the start of my quiet time alone. Sometimes things have a way of flying at us out of nowhere, don’t they? Life is full of surprises, and if I pretend that the spiritual things of this world take no part in them, good or bad, I’ve missed out on a key element of life as a feeling, thinking, perceiving person.
Sometimes it feels easier to ignore the spiritual and emotional, and to attempt at rational, straightforward and pragmatic instead.
The truth is though, I’m living my life these days trying my best to walk with God–to trust him, to press into him, to rely on him for all I need–even thought I don’t get it right all of the time. And I think when we live life with spiritual intention, we have to expect that there will be opposition, and we have to acknowledge it when it comes.
I walked into the coffee shop this morning, said hello to a friend, and started to cry. Our brief conversation was a gift today, because she gave me permission and space just to let it out. I didn’t want to be crying. It frustrated me. But when something is welling up and we haven’t let it spill over, it’s going to find a way out eventually, and it might do that in an unexpected or challenging space.
“Losing it” for a few minutes this morning was probably the best thing that could have happened for me on this last day of a dreary-feeling month. It isn’t that there hasn’t been joy or goodness in the past twenty nine days, it’s just that I probably need to shed a few things spiritually in preparation for a hopeful and soon-coming spring. Maybe my heart knows just as well as my body that it’s ready for light…craving sunshine and longer days…wishing away heavy layers and ready for growth.
Maybe your heart is ready for something different, too? Maybe you’ve got something welling up that is beyond ready to pour out. Maybe, like me today, you don’t even see it coming yet.
Let’s give each other grace and space in these days, can’t we? I know few souls who aren’t ready for a refreshing–who aren’t longing for more light. And I’m convinced that entrusting the good and the hard and the sacred to God each day, while affording each other a safe place to land, is precisely where we need to start.
I don’t know about you, but I couldn’t be happier that this is the last day of February. I’m not one to wish time away, but I will be glad to embrace the reality of March tomorrow (even if it is going to snow again…) Light will always find a way back in.
love and grace,