Her thoughts travelled along more theological paths, whereas mine tend to get muddled when considering matters of the Divine.
But as I am feeling especially muddled these days, I thought maybe I could share with you what's saving my life right now, in the most visceral and earth-bound sort of ways.
Daffodils. I've told you how I feel about yellow, generally, but these cheerful blooms get a pass all of their own. Daffodils save my very sanity in the dark days of March, when the cold winds persist and the grey clouds scud aggressively across an afternoon sky. Now, in the final days of March the daffodils have triumphed - have seized entire hills and trumpet their victory good-naturedly for all passers-by. They secure the territory for the tulips to follow, and summer's wildflowers after that.
Norwegian chocolate. I don't have much of a sweet tooth - not for chocolate anyway. Never really struggled with the temptation of cocoa goodness in the cupboard. (And before you roll your eyes at my goody-goody-two-shoe'd-ness, please never put a bag of gummi bears in front of me. You'll won't see them again.) But right now we have our beloved Farmor visiting, and she brought with her the Real Deal. Norwegian chocolate, I feel compelled to tell you, will put you off Hershey's for life. I have been replacing my lost endorphins with a whole other sort of rush:
Grace notes. This is a tricky little phrase, sadly co-opted by Hallmark too often, but one originally intended to catch all of those small moments that add up to a joy-filled and deeply grateful life. Grace notes this week include:
- finding my handmade Valentines still in my husband's driver side door - he keeps them to read in traffic. <cold, hard heart melts here>
- Listening to my 3 year old assure me that Go Fish was "God's favorite game."
- Having same child warble Everybody everybody wants to love... Everybody everybody wants to be loved.... oh oh oh... oh oh oh to herself in the backyard swing. When asked, she'll tell you 'oh, that's our family song.' (for the official, non-toddler Ingrid Michaelson version, check here)
- 10 magically quiet minutes where everyone plays outside in the sunshine, and I have the presence of mind to think - this. this is saving my life right now.