she gives, because that is who she is.
even in the cold of a winter wind,
and i pull the bundle of pussy willow sticks close,
arrange them in a mason jar and we sit in a circle around them.
have they never really ever seen them before?
i mean, they must have,
but they look at them with a wonder that amazes me
and they each ask if they can hold a branch.
and i watch tiny hands pet those grey, tiny buds
and i watch what is dead being cradled in the hands of the living.
and it happens, as we sit all gilded and golden in the sun,
that moment that helps me see those other moments just a tad bit clearer...
it can all seem so dead;
that hope, that desire, that wish for a different outcome.
it can all have been packed up and moved away and find you sitting there wondering where in the world your life went.
it can all change so very quickly.
and the snow flies again
and the temperature drops
and you stand at the window watching it all be buried again.
but could what seems like an ending,
be only a beginning?
doesn't new life always comes from a dead seed buried deep in the dirt?
sometimes you just have to lay it down for Him to raise up new life in you.
and in those in between moments ~
the ones that leave you feeling lost and forgotten and maybe slightly disoriented;
maybe they are ones meant to strengthen and remind that He is there - always, always there,
and in the dark, you find He lets you hold the hope of spring in your hands...