It's a Tuesday night in March to be exact. We just finished the dinner dishes and any moment now my girls, my near-women, will emerge clean and scrubbed and jammied with soft blankets and over-sized pillows. We'll sprawl and pile across the well-loved living room furniture and engage in family movie night. Tonight it won't be quite dark when we begin, and next week it won't be dark at all and suddenly we find ourselves counting the Tuesdays until family movie night becomes family swim night, or family ice cream under the stars night, or family full moon picnic night...
It's March, and it's almost Spring. I can taste it on my tongue tip as it dances across the breezes (and even the lion-like March gale winds). The daffodils bow and nod in cheery greeting as I walk...run. I'm trying to run and this old ankle tries to fight it, and I realize yet again that it may be spring, but I am no spring chicken any more, and so I am grateful for the flowery entourage of support. It's spring even though at night the stars still snap crisp as January and the bright, translucent green of spring leaves are wrapped up tight. But the red bud knows. She cheerfully and unashamedly blushes bright pink for the glory of the sun and the fickle fling of spring storms.
It's March and in this year of Attention , the year of no goals and few lists I feel I have changed more and learned more in two months than in two years combined. Generally by March's end I think to myself "Oh no! The year is one quarter gone, and I lost focus on what I had planned already." This year I have no plans, but my focus remains crystal clear before me. I am not who I was...not even who I was in January. And this change, it is very good even when I want to crawl under the pine straw to hibernate with the muskrats, even when I gaze out the window at the lake for an hour and wonder what in the world could God possibly be planning. Even then.
It's March, and I am counting hours and numbering days, only now I am numbering days to Arizona (twenty-five). I am gaining a vision. I am developing a Sabbath heart and looking forward to a small breathing space while vision and rest find their proper perspective in my soul. I'm thinking of slavery and Egypt and returning to Egypt and how to make those thoughts flow into words here in this space.
It's March and every day becomes an adventure of discovery, what to learn, what to enjoy, what to discover, what to pray, what to hope.
I'm paying attention.