In Like a Lion

Today, officially the 2nd day of spring, we woke up to a steadily falling snow.  Not a gentle, delicate, pretty snow, but a heavy, slushy, "you're-not-going-anywhere-very-quickly-today" kind of snow.  Usually on snowy days in Minnesota, roads get cleared quickly, but today the heavy, icy snow must have delayed the plow drivers. I had to call the city's public works department not once, but three times, to get a snowplow driver to clear our street enough that I could actually get out onto the main road.  In fact, it took me getting stuck with the baby in the backseat (right outside of our house, granted), to actually get them to come.

I should probably have been grateful rather than frustrated.  After all, in my home state (whose capital city, Atlanta, boasts a total of 8 snowplows), I wouldn't have been going anywhere for days.  But instead, I was angry.  I had places to go, things to do, people to see.  Okay, well really I was just trying to squeeze in a trip to Target before heading to work.  But still.  Come on, people.  Can you get going, here?  And anyway, it's March and snowing for the 100th time this season, and I'm cold and wet and tired of the cold and wet... sigh.  Georgia doesn't sound so bad.

I think, adding to my frustration, was the fact that several of my plans over the course of this (insanely long) winter have been canceled due to blizzards.   And it keeps snowing, and snowing, and snowing, and... on and on.  Then, slowly but surely, it seems to stop.  You see flashes of green peeking out from below melting ice.  You see sunshine, and let your preschoolers play outside for almost an hour because it actually feels...dare you say the word...warm.  But early spring is a great trickster - he teases you with a heavenly glimpse of new life before dumping out several last bucketfuls of cold white slush on your head.  Hahaha, he seems to say.  Warmth and sunshine, that's what you think.

*

Like the lion that is early spring, all I wanted to do was growl.  Grrrrrrr.  Go away snow.  Go away cold, wet, icy, yuckiness.  You are unwelcome here.  We had a taste of what's to come, and we want it back - your cousin, later spring's lamb.  The flowers, the sunshine, the grass, the warmish breeze.

So I finally managed to get out of the neighborhood, thanks to the snow plow and a little shoveling of my own.  My daughter babbled in the backseat, totally oblivious to the inconvenient weather conditions outside her window, completely unaware that this was late March, and it was not supposed to be snowing anymore.

We stopped at Caribou to warm up, and as I held Lucy and watched her play in my lap, I realized once again that God was trying to tell me something.  As He has been all winter.  Slow down.  Take one day at a time.  Be grateful for this - for This Moment.  This little smile, these big brown eyes, these long lashes, this intense focus.  She will never be ten months and three days old again.  And you will never be here again, in this place and time, with her.

So my resolution (spring resolution, maybe?) is to be more conscious of living in the moment.  Enjoying the little (and big) gifts God gives me every day - and He gives me so, so many - because gifts, after all, are meant to be enjoyed.  Small, sticky fingers exploring my face.  Sweet, soft skin fresh from a bath.  Deep belly-laughs, and cries that are quieted only by my arms.  A little person who softens my hard heart just by living life the only way she knows how - to its very fullest.

While I am still very tired of this long winter, I have to remind myself that, as cliche as it sounds, the spring flowers will be sweeter because of it.  The sunshine will feel warmer, and the grass will look greener.  In the meantime, may I remember to slow down and enjoy life, wet slushy snow and all.

Thank you, Jesus, for lambs and for lions.  Thank you for spring.

*Artwork courtesy of my preschoolers.  We are still working on "out like a lamb". :)