The past in the now

The past is in the past. And it always stays with you.

I’ve wanted to go back to the past, to who I was. To a place that was home and to people who used to belong in my story.

I’ve held on to my past and I’ve wanted to turn back time. I’ve thought that, if I could do that, I’d like to take some things from now back to then. And I’ve thought I’d leave even more things behind in the now.

But then is then, and now is now. “Then” lies behind me, “now” all around me, and “what will be” stretches out before me like the ocean, covered by a fine mist.

And yet there’s a bit of what is behind me inside of me. Like a shadow that stays in the mirror. The red stain that stays in the white container years after the spaghetti sauce has been washed out.

I’ve often seen my childhood as a burden, something to forget.

And I’ve seen it as the only thing that matters, something to anxiously cling to when all the other things in my life and in the world seemed unsure.

I’ve realized […]

When the magic begin

The sun shines into the cold, bright air and little white clouds float through it effortlessly.

The birds are singing a song again, and I’m wondering which warm spot they camped out at this winter.

I know they didn’t come home because they wanted to encourage me to hang in there, to prove that spring and summer are on their way back.

They came to build little nests in hedges and trees and bushes, to make everything ready for their arrival of their babies.

Either way, I’m glad they came.

The song they sing while going about their own business lights up my day.

Some of the trees are turning pink, prettier then the prettiest princess dress. The magic is beginning.

Children who are cranky from being cooped up inside go out and play, discovering wondrous things they have seen a thousand times before.

This time, more than any other time before this, it’s new and special and utterly delightful.

In a different realm and also very much here, is the Lord of All. The Lord of the mountains we try to climb, the oceans we can’t fathom. The Lord of spring and forget-me-nots and the babies that are […]