If I could bathe in green, I would.
I cannot get enough of the light, fresh grass, or birds being happy about whatever they go on about. The most I can do is get as close to the earth as possible…without looking a bit touched in the head.
The winter left a chill that I can’t seem to shake. When my kids started singing Christmas songs a bit ago, I almost had a panic attack.
No winter. No Christmas.
I just want to be here.
I think I first noticed the affect when John Eldredge referred to Matthew 24:12 – when evil is so rampant, the love of many will go cold. “That’s me…” I had no idea. Because it is. It is a struggle to keep this heart alive, warm, beating, wild, friendly, emotionally available.
And, I’m seeing how this connects to my words for the year. (If you’ve never heard of this practice, Ransomed Heart ministries has a great introduction in this episode.)
Because already, I’ve noticed some things. Not fun things. Things like the knick knacks that I haven’t gotten rid of…for whatever reason. The third glass of wine that just feels way too good. My inability to not. check. my. phone. The incessant hunger that won’t go away. Somehow, in the past year, I’ve become this big empty hole that is never entirely filled.
My heart feels the bite of frost.
I don’t want to grow cold.
So begins the sifting.
I’ve started dealing with these little addictions that have wound their way into the crevices of my heart.
I use an app called Forest now when I drive. I refuse to touch that “Give Up” button.
I confessed to my husband this week of the wine, and so we’re going to take a break together.
And, the things? All the things by my bed spilling over and out of my book shelf, piling on racks, and crammed into baskets? Well, I haven’t found a solution yet for that. Frankly, I’m just gathering the heart to try.
And, so I sit in the sun and open my eyes as wide as I can to the reality that winter is over. I’m not sure my heart believes it yet.
Oh, how I need to believe.
Photo Credit: Anton Atanasov from Pexels