It’s April 1st. The remnants of our last snowman still sit in the front lawn. The squirrels and birds are only mildly interested in the carrots and cherry tomatoes that our poor snowman left as his final sacrifice. It’s Spring Break, and this Indiana girl is hoping that the muddy earth warms up and the air starts smelling like hope and promise.
This Indiana girl needs some hope and some promise. After one of the hardest weekends on record for me personally (nothing radical or horrible–just a lot of life happening at once), I feel like I need an Easter do-over today. Thankfully, the Good News of hope, and redemption, and restoration is ours every day–and God’s mercy is new each and every morning. The sun rises on the hope of each new day.
I can get greedy for new days. I can look so forward to tomorrow that I forget the gift of finishing today well. Life rolls along at a quick pace, too quickly if we aren’t careful to give thanks for the days.
This summer, I’m hoping for hopelessly long days and nights spotted with lightning bugs. This summer I’m hoping for memories made that sound like laughter and taste like sun-warmed watermelon.
The days are long, but the years are short. That is the core statement of motherhood–or any of adulthood really. Nobody can quite explain to me how once you turn 20 the years speed by, ever quickening. This phenomena defies all that I know to be true of time, but yet it seems to be a universal affliction. One season gives way to another, and yet another, and another. Pretty soon you’re back to where you started, except another calendar year later.
If you’re hoping to join us for The Influence Conference 2013–hurry and snag your ticket (they’re going on sale today!).