☕️ Seasons

A Saturday Caesura

Spring has finally settled in to stay. The snipes are back, the trees are leafing green, night temperatures are staying above zero. The sun-snow-rain-freeze-thaw-frost of the past few weeks felt too much like the in-school-online-school-open-close-isolate-vaccinate of the ongoing coronavirus season. So much tossing to and fro, back and forth, in and out. It feels like rest for spring to just. stay. put.

This past week a friend and I met in a park for an after-work picnic and overdue visit. The summer-haunted warmth of the evening mirrored our friendship, one that has found deeper roots while standing together through a particular life-storm. I love that the all-season friends in my life come from all seasons, ages, backgrounds, experiences. I am grateful that they embrace relationships in ways that promote beauty and unity in a world increasingly prone towards the ugly and divisive. It feels like a settling and a hope-sprouting spring.

Tomorrow is Mother’s Day and whatever else it is for me, this day usually becomes a reflection on all the seasons of motherhood. So much delight and pain wrapped up in a single role. I have regrets. I have treasured memories. I have tears. But I am grateful for this season of being a mother to adult children. It feels like a settling and a fresh-washed spring and a joy-filled grief-tinged blessing.

Tomorrow is also our 40th wedding anniversary, and if motherhood has predicable seasons as children grow from newborn to adulthood, marriage seasons come and go with regular unpredictability. We grow, storm, stagnate, forgive, compromise, love, laugh, cry, cling, withdraw, pray, pray, pray, give, cherish, for better or for worse. Forty years. Two-thirds of our lives. We are not the same people who pledged to have and to hold till death to us part all those years ago. And yet we are still uniquely us, aged and shaped by forty years of individuality and togetherness. I’m grateful for this season of continuing to grow in oneness. It feels like a settling and a long, languid summer and a rich undeserved blessing.

He has shown kindness by giving you rain from heaven and crops in their seasons; he provides you with plenty…and fills your hearts with joy. Acts. 14:17

22. Doxology 2

To the Faithful One who caused the sun to rise…

and shine bone-penetrating afternoon warmth
on friends whose hands cradle cups of hot tea
while conversations steep in grace and hope
and broken-hearts-still-healing drink whole-heartedly
the reminders to faithfully pursue truth and trust…

be all glory and praise, honour and majesty.

Amen.

Some recent observations…

– lightning in the winter seems rather incongruent for some reason, but I can now vouch for its existence.

– seeing a mama moose kneeling on her front legs to lick a chunk of salty ice is quite hilarious. Gave a whole new meaning to “bums up.”

– having your car washed by moose tongues (mama and her twins) is quite… gross? unique? weird? Still processing that one.

– when the snow is up to a moose’s belly, snowshoes may be a better choice than cross-country skis. I love skiing, but that outing gave a new perspective on the concept of “breaking trail.”

– vegetables taste better than chocolates

– I never get as much done during Christmas break as I plan. I’ve learned to be okay with that.

– differences in age and stages of life are not impediments to rich times of sharing-laughing-rejoicing-crying with other women. So grateful for the young women in my life. And the older ones, too.

contentment is a profound and beautiful word