This morning broke clean and beautiful, filled to overflowing with a bright blue sky and golden sun. The night that held so much drifted away and now, sitting in the clear light, my coffee cup steaming beside me, all I can think of is how beautiful it all is.
Unpacking must be done, boxes to empty, a new space to fill with life abundant. For now though, before the day fully sweeps in, I'm sitting here, enjoying this mug full of coffee and thinking about all the day holds.
The mountains out my window have peaks covered in white snow, shining in the morning light. Up there, I know winter is still clinging to the tips of these beautiful mountains...where I am below, it's going ever so slowly. Our mornings hold the last breaths of winter and our afternoons promise Spring will come soon. Spring snow falls in spurts, every day different from the next, yet, the snow melts quickly and Spring pushes on.
Amazing how quickly things change, isn't it? If you look back to a year ago, I'm sure, like me, you'd wonder at how life has changed, moved, shifted. Or maybe, your year holds a moment, a flash, when everything changed. Maybe it's the first time it's ever happened to you, coming unexpectedly and with a force hard enough to take your breath. I had that happen in the course of this past year. First time it's ever happened in that way before. Suddenly, wham, with a blinding flash everything changed. Amazing how that all can happen on the inside and if anyone looks at you, at where your life is, it will look exactly the same to them....probably would even in the moment things changed. Yet, it did indeed change and everything from that point forward has been different and I am certainly not who I was.
I sit here and smile, thinking of that day, because all I can do (though it has not been easy) is know that life is wild and beautiful and sweet, ever changing, ever breathing around us, whispering of a set number of days we have, and not to waste them wishing things were different...wishing that they could change again, that the struggle would be somehow less. Less is not what life is about. It's about more. More moments, more giving, more living, more being who He would have us be in those moments He gifts to us, be it easy or hard.
The song "Fairy Dance" from Peter Pan drifts from my computer. Lilting and soft, it reminds me of a time before when I wrote of much I do not write of now. Of fairies and ogres, of walking through a land where children seem to be the only ones to remember the way. I wrote often of this....knights and dragons, perhaps Narnia right around the next bend. I wrote often because this is who I am, this is what lives and breathes inside of me. But, it went away for a long time. Smiling, I think of all this, and it's amazing how, though I haven't written of this part of who I am in a long time, it is still there, quiet and still, waiting to come out at the right time. Perhaps, with the coming and going of one Spring, and now with the coming of another, time has healed the scar enough to think of all I found so beautiful, all that filled my days with what children delight in reading...what adults do too, if they're old enough to admit it once again. For I have been molded by the first books I ever read down into my soul, first the Word which cuts like a sword, reading through it at seven, while at the same time reading "The Chronicles of Narnia" and these together painted a living, breathing picture of beauty and magic, filling the days of a little girl, painting a picture of a majestic lion, Aslan in the one world, but in reality, the beautiful picture of Jesus, whose name I discovered at the same time. This is what has molded my relationship with Him. This is what He saw fit to use to mold me, creating a yearning inside my heart to capture words like an artist wields a paint brush, painting beautiful pictures of lands we forget as adults, of how their beauty can show us a picture of who He is even when we do not know it.
So, perhaps once again, it will come, singing to be written of....and maybe, you will find your way to lands you have forgotten, seeing once again the face of the One who loves you, knowing He would speak to you in any way possible, even through the made up visions of a writer who loves Him with her whole heart.
"It isn't Narnia, you know," sobbed Lucy. "It's you. We shan't meet you there. And how can we live, never meeting you?""But you shall meet me, dear one," said Aslan."Are-are you there too, Sir?" said Edmund."I am," said Aslan. "But there I have another name. You must learn to know me by that name. This was the very reason why you were brought to Narnia, that by knowing me here for a little, you may know me better there."C.S. Lewis, The Voyage of the Dawn Treader
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