A fourth, and last, full day of spring. After two solid months of unalloyed winter we have had almost of a week of spring – melting temps, sunshine, the smell of dirt. It is still cold enough in the early morning to chill my fingers, but I have been liberated from my parka and even my sweat pants. Knobby 56 year old knees bared themselves to the elements today and lived.
This will not last. We’ve barely passed the midpoint of official winter, which here in the Great Lakes is only that – official. Snow and cold can make appearances well into April, even May. By tomorrow evening the artic will be blowing back into town. But such is the nature of grace – not the theological dogma so much as the prosaic grace that is the rain (or snow) which falls on the just and unjust alike.
Life’s work is overwhelming right now. In addition to the daily tasks of pushing an institution from today into tomorrow, there are two funerals this week. We are mounting a second pledge drive to close a yawning gap between what we have and what we need. I am filling out the FAFSA this week, and preparing a page for his yearbook (didn’t know I was a graphic designer? Well, I am no better at that than playing the piano which I did in church this past week.)
Life is rich in all things it seems – blessings, burdens, hopes and fears.