It’s been a dark winter.
It was a long and lonely fall.


Yesterday, the only sunny morning of the week, I took a walk outside.
I breathed in the beauty of the Creator,
And I felt refreshed.
There was a sense of something bursting forth…
Something I know not what, yet.


This is the season of the poets:
Something within our bones swells with joy
When we experience this renewal of the land
When the flowers bloom and the harsh ground turns green again.
Its a rush to see the luscious forrest once more, no longer the barren wasteland.

We say, ‘Yes, all can be well again–
After winter must come spring, it must.’
We need this grace, we cherish it.
As much as we need the sun to come up each day
and the rain to fall on the sinners and the saints.


Rain, what beauty, what grace!
What transformation!
The showers, the storms, the drenching,
The power that causes the blossoms–
We need that grace too.

Drink deep, little earth, little heart,
And bloom, bloom, blossom little daughter.

The cruelest month?

I’ve been doing a lot of writing about myself lately. I’ve got some scholarship essays and a personal story both due on Monday. So, today, I don’t want to write about myself. I just want to leave you with the beauty of April. I keep longing for May because I’m so stressed with school, but the reality is – April is a gorgeous month, mixed with new spring blossoms and leftovers from winter’s darkness. I don’t want spend my April pining for May.