Springtime in My HeartBy Mikki
It’s springtime in Alabama. The world is so green it almost looks unreal. The trees, the flowers, and the grasses reach for the sky, alive again. Winter is displaced by the rushing forces of spring which refuse to be denied and I smile. The way the earth calls me is almost indescribable. My toes beg for the soft grass. Front porch rockers beckon for long pauses of my soul. Drab gives way to color. Cold days are forgotten. Everything is gloriously alive, including me.
As I drink in the warm sunshine, I think of how the earth is seemingly reborn every springtime. And I think of what someone said to me last week, that it was almost as if I were born again, again. Yeah, that’s a good description of my life right now.
Reminds me of when my oldest son, Andrew, committed his life to Christ at age 5. My husband prayed with him. They were in my daughter’s purple bedroom. After the prayer, Andrew said, “The room’s more purple-er.” Yeah, the world’s more purple-er.
Winter always lasts too long, don’t you think? My personal winter certainly did. The winds blew, the snows came, the ice covered everything. Nothing grew, or at least it seemed. My winter brought confusion, hurt, disillusionment, and a general sense of being lost, unsure of who I was any more. And yet, the winter pruned me.
Now I notice I can more clearly define myself. Choices are easier. I know who I am, what I want, and at least some of where I’m going. I don’t get easily lost in other folks’ agendas. I can say no, clearly and often if need be.
I know more of what my soul has to have to thrive. My inner meter warns me when I am becoming off balanced, too busy, and too empty. I know Who sustains me when all else falls away and it’s not just a religious cliché.
When my heart longs, I feel it. My life has opened to more depth. I no longer rush to fix anyone or any situation. I can stay in painful moments and moments of joy without needing to package them or rush them away. I can cry, repeatedly, and I almost daily do, with hurting people. I can laugh until my side hurts in moments of delight. I can take time to play and not feel unproductive.
My journey into deeper authenticity with the world, my own heart, those I love, and my God is traversed with a keen awareness that each day is a gift which is not always easy, but is full and rich and substantial.
I feel I’m home again, born again, again. Comfortable in my own skin. At peace with me. Think I’ll just take my shoes off and walk barefoot in the grass ‘cause there’s nothing like springtime in Alabama and springtime in my heart.
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