The daffodils are blooming outside. It's March 10th, and the daffodils have been in bloom for several days. And to think I was told the winters would be harsher in my move north. Good bye Winter, hello Spring and walks and - oh, hi there Winter.
This morning our routine found us on the edge of preparedness at the edge of the doorstep with seconds to spare. The door opened and the cold air froze us. I pulled out my phone to open the weather app(how did anyone get kids dressed before smart phones?). My concerns were validated. I turned to the kids in expectation of wailing and gnashing of teeth amidst a rushed scavenger hunt for the long since buried hats and gloves. To my surprise, the kids took the task in stride. It was as though the novelty of the cold air crystallized their memories. There were no, 'the gloves are lost and I'm going to die' performances worthy of an Oscar nomination. The kids just rolled with it. And I found myself more surprised than daffodils waving in the Winter air.
In the surprise, I re-membered a lesson I have too often forgot. One which those younger in years seem to teach so selflessly. The world changes. Constantly and without our permission. We who live through the changes do not like how the change can disrupt our otherwise programmed lives. We organize, categorize, summarize, and otherwise control the variables. The constant march of time has been segregated into islands we jump from and to - this year, this month, this day, this hour, this minute. We order ourselves by grade, age, teenagers, the twenties, over the hill, and senior citizens. The ever shifting weather has sunny, cloudy, and rainy days to go along with the four seasons. And then it changes any ways.
Yet kids seem not to be so concerned with the change as the wonder of the moment. Its as though they take what God gives us all and delight in it while the rest of us try to arrange it in a way we like. Yes, kids need guidance and reminding and reminding and reminding, but they have a tendency to accept what is in front of them while we may fear or retreat or avoid or deny. Perhaps we need gladly seek out what keeps us warm in the winters of grief when the joyous spring of newness has run its course. Perhaps this is why Jesus said to let the little children come to him.
I do not know how I let myself get surprised by the weather here in Indiana. I pray I can do better at being present to whatever changes come my way.