This afternoon between piano recital and our time at Evening Prayer, I took Miss Sophie for her afternoon constitutional. We went a little further than we normally do, as there were a lot of children playing near our house, and Miss Sophie is, well, easily distracted from the task at hand.
In the quiet as she sniffed all the things, I took the time to look around and appreciate the fact that I wasn’t freezing standing there. The blue of the sky was classically beautiful, and the sun shone brightly. But it was when I looked down that I saw something that surprised me.
Georgia or not, it’s still winter here. We’ve had a few days that have me crocheting warmer colors on my temperature blanket, but lately we’ve been back into the “my toes are cold and want to go home” kind of weather. There are hardly any trees other than evergreens with leaves on them, my bulbs aren’t growing yet, and the grass is brown–and dead.
But as I stood there looking and thinking while Miss Sophie did her dog thing, I noticed that the grass wasn’t all brown.
I saw bits–if ever so few and tiny–of green.
It really surprised me. I stood there, chiding myself, Well, what did you think, Tara? That the brown grass just one day, blade by blade, would turn green and spring would officially be here?
I suppose not, but I don’t think I’ve ever paid that much attention to the process. It’s just been brown and dead and then one day, the grass is green, it’s warm, and my flip flops are back where they belong.
On my feet.
But today I realized something. In the midst of that brown and dying grass, well below what the eye can detect, there is life. The green is there. Waiting. Even when we don’t see it. Waiting for the right situation, and the right season.
And then I heard my Mama: Ecclesiastes 3. (her favorite) To everything there is a season.
The new life is there. And one day, when the time and season is right, it will choke out all of that death, and all around us there will be rebirth and life and growth.
what has been in the works all along will be apparent and shine through the brown grass and darkness.
Wishing you all a glimpse of green grass today and everyday.
Love to all.