As the days grow longer, the air loses its chill and the prospect of new life is evident in the budding blossoms popping up in fields and grass, we know that Spring is upon us. Among the birds chirping and sunny skies, my Spring brings with it a heavy cloud.
The reminder of what was once loved and lost too soon. The hope of what could have been, but wasn’t. The what if’s and why me’s. The simultaneous guilt of moving on and being stuck in the past.
In like a lion and out like a lamb. Yes, Spring’s thunderous clouds will melt away with Summer, then drift quietly into the breeze of Autumn, and be but a distant memory in the bitter cold of Winter among the ho hum of this mundane life.
Under this heavy cloud of darkness, I remember. The wholehearted joy of loving and the unspeakable despair of loss. The tragic circumstances among the most compassionate hearts. The blessing of life, no matter how short.
Spring marks the years like the sun sets on our days. Two times, Spring has come. Two times, I have wept over ashes. Two times, I have mourned for lives changed forever. Two times, I cherish what is left and never let gratitude for life escape me.
When the darkness of Spring lifts, only Grace shall remain. Grace to dwell on the past. Grace to live in the present. And God’s Grace of the greatest treasures on Earth.