It’s a breathtaking morning here. One of those mornings that happen only when it’s right on the cusp of spring. Kind of like winter’s last stand.
6am. And there’s this thick blanket of fog that is covering the backyard, with only the faint shadow of the spindly tree branches cutting through. It’s as though the view from my window has an eerily romantic Instagram filter. A cardinal is perched on the statue outside, and its red coloring is muted, yet brilliant against the frost.
This dreamy scene reminds me that spring is on its way.
And as beautiful as it is, it pulls at the pit of my stomach.
It’s the passing of time.
When I came home from NYC for Christmas, I was expecting to be home for 7 days, and then be back to ring in the New Year from Manhattan.
Then my mom’s stroke happened and a) thank you, Lord, that I was home! But b) my life and plans completely changed gears: I quit my nanny job in NYC and moved temporarily back home to be on call 24/7 for my mom and dad.
Which honestly, has been such a blessing to be able to do that. You know…I could have had a serious boyfriend back in NYC or a high-powered Wall Street job that would have prohibited me from being able to drop everything and come back to Ohio.
But looking out the window this morning, I’d be lying if I didn’t feel a pang of restless anxiety or just…fear, almost…at the changing of the seasons.
When I came home, it was the dead of winter. Now, we’re on the cusp of spring.
Time is passing, and things, for me, are unclear.
And I feel like such a boob even giving the time of day to these personal apprehensions. I mean, I look at my mom, and I know that everything I’m feeling, she feels to the “N’th degree.” It’s been almost 8 weeks since her stroke, and I know that she’s wanting to be back to her normal self, and it’s killing her that she still has a long way to go in the recovery process.
Seeing that, who am I to complain about my small potatoes?
After this kind of somber start to the morning, I snapped my laptop closed and decided to make that best of today.
That morning, I accompanied my mother to her book club/bible study, and yet again, I’m walking away with a new perspective having heard some sage wisdom…straight from some sixty-year old ladies’ mouths.
We talked about how in life, we, as women, are receptive. By nature. We have a receptiveness about us…we empty ourselves for others so that we can be filled by God.
And to do that, we have to be open to His plan.
And sitting there, listening to those women chat, I couldn’t help but think about the situation I find myself in right this very minute.
Where I am right now, whether I realize it or not, communicates that I am open to His plan. I have emptied my life and what I thought was important and necessary –I’ve poured it out.
But today, and these past couple days, I’ve been so focused on the pouring-out-ness, that I’ve missed how much God is filling me up simultaneously:
I’ve gotten to be here for the birth and growing up of my niece. I’ve spent more time with my brothers and their wives than ever before, which is so awesome. And not to mention, just being with my mom and dad and having dance parties that could end me up on America’s Funniest Home Videos. Either that or America’s Most Wanted…
Focusing on myself and thinking about the fast paced life I willing walked away from for this season, makes me overlook the fact that this time is actually a gift.
A gift that keeps on giving, day in and day out. I just need to stop focusing on myself and see what God is actually doing.
The fog has lifted now, both outside and in my heart. The sun has cut through, piercing the haze and bringing with it a spectacular day with crystal blue skies.
So too, in my heart.
@beauty.beyond.bones – Instagram
Thank you for considering supporting BBB on Patreon! You make this blog possible