Will It Ever Be Spring?

Tahd’s out of town this week—not just out of town, but out of the country in Brazil. For work. And I’m totally not jealous… ;). 

We have this “Ok to Wake” clock in the little kids’ room, and it lights up green when they’re allowed to get up at 7:00. I’d love it to be later than that, but lately, even 7:00 has been pressing my luck, and we’ve been begging and coercing Jude to (FOR THE LOVE) stop screaming for us at 6:00 every morning, waking everyone else in the process.

In an ideal world I’d be getting up around 6:00 and I’d be coherent and loving and ready for them an hour later, but since my world rarely approaches ideal, early-riser Tahd usually intercepts them when they gleefully bound into my room at 7:00 while I’m still in a groggy, sleep-deprived haze.  I owe him big for this! When he’s traveling, however, it’s all on me.

Isla was (shockingly!) first up yesterday morning, and I snuck a few more minutes sleep by bribing her with the ipad. But when she suddenly exclaimed, “Mom! It’s snowing!” something within me snapped awake. Mostly, it was horror, because it is nearly the middle of April and it is still sooooo colllllddddd and I am DONE with winter.  For real—when will it be spring? When will I hear birds and be able to open my window and wear flats without freezing the tops of my feet, hm?  When????

Also, have I mentioned my children are actually climbing the walls?

That afternoon, however, I was surprised when I noticed the magnolia tree in our front yard; or, more accurately, I noticed its furry buds. Most are closed up tight, but a few, especially on the tree’s south side, are beginning to stretch their outer casings to reveal the more tender insides.

You guys, it’s happening! My tree is getting ready to bloom, which means spring is coming!

Even more than exhaustion with winter, however, is the exhaustion in my soul lately. I’m just flat out tired down to my core. Every day I feel spent and used up and like not enough and too much all at once. I’ve felt this way for some time, and even though I’ve been experimenting and adjusting and reprioritizing, I haven’t had much luck at finding renewal, at forcing a rebirth of energy and purpose in my soul.

Those few opening buds on my magnolia tree cheered me in more ways than one.  “Have faith. It’s true!” they cried. “The  secrets of rebirth endure even while the death of winter falls softly and blankets everything I can see. Winter will not last forever. Even in the midst of snow, spring is preparing herself.”

Spring will come—is coming. Around me and, I hope, inside me. Winter’s work is not yet done, but it will not last forever, and it will all be reborn again.

And that reminder brought a deep breath of refreshment to my soul today. 

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