Fears of Spring

The sun is beginning to seep its gently insistent warmth into our bones. Shorts have ressurected from the sad graves of long-forgotten corners in our drawers. Freckles have once again made their unapolagetic presence known after months of hybernation. There is a lazy haziness about everyone--students and teachers alike; who could resist loitering a few minutes longer under the comforting rays of God's natural greenhouse?

To quote the bard: "Ah, there's the rub!" There are only a few things that I can truly say that I fear. Really, honestly fear. For your enjoyment, the following list has been provided:

-Bees (Not honeybees--wasps. I'm getting over this one. Slowly.)
-Darkness (Sometimes. This one always depends on circumstances.)
-Being alone (I have found that for the benefit of my mental health and general well-being, I should avoid aloneness as much as possible.)

Now for the killer:

-Apathy. Dullness. Luke-warmness. Lack of inspiration. Lack of passion. Lack of motivation. Lack of joy. Lack of God.

This is my ultimate and extreme fear. I fear boredom and sulleness. My breath catches in my chest in the utter pain of frustration at the mere thought of such a dreadful state of being. God has not called me to be dull, lifeless, boring. God has made me vibrant, and I will grow more so every day of my life-- so help me God.

Spring has brought on an epidemic of restless non-productivity. The prime topic of conversation among students at WCC is as follows:

-Summer plans, and oh how dreadfully unmotivated I have become academically.

People are bemoaning their lack of dedication during this infuriatingly beautiful season. We alternate between bubbly, upbeat playfulness during weekends and supposed "study time," and complete dulness in the classroom. Scores of good folks are taken to sun-bathing--I included. We say to ourselves, "I'll sit out in the sun and do some homework for a while."

Somehow it just doesn't happen that way. As soon as the seat of my pants hit turf, I'm lost. Taken captive by the distracting beauty surrounding me. Who can read their Poly-Sci textbook when weighted down by the softly suffocating, intoxicating loveliness of nature?

But then guilt inevitably comes. Like the grim reaper he persists in wounding us with much-needed, enlivening conviction. The moment of reckoning comes like a sweet, however painful, rebirth. Thank God He does not leave us wandering restlessly with every breeze that blows for too long. He steps in and severs unhealthy, maddening, deadening complacency from our wayward hearts.

Perhaps this season of frustration serves as a prod to wake us up to the realization of our humanity once again. This trial too shall pass, and when it does it shall leave behind a more beautiful, more vibrant me behind.

Oh Brighter Lord!

Ever brighter I shall grow--
Brighter still till all of me is aglow.
Who can abide the sullen dullness of sin,
When the light of His glorious person calls you in?

Closer to His arms I shall fly--
Till all else fades in my besotted eye.
His charms have wooed me sweetly,
I can do none other than fly to Him fleetly.

Always wrapped in His cloak I shall hide--
Till all covered and hidden is my pitiful pride.
All you can see of me,
Is the glory of Christ reflected and free.

Sanctified evermore, I shall be--
Till in the rapture of glory, His faithful face I see.
No more to chasten shall He appear,
Rather to glory in the now perfected bride who has shed all her fear.

My dearest

What I have to say has already been said beautifully by my big brother in Bosnia. Thank you Nathan for your blessedly concise, heartfelt words. Oh how I love you!

Like my brother, I love my Mother. She is my role-model, my confidant, my counselor, my comforter, my friend. She possesses wisdom by many, many more years of experience than I. She has learned to love each of her children as the individuals they are. She loves them each the same, and each differently. She stretches herself beyond the limits of human possibility. She abandons her human tendency to serve her own needs in favor of serving ours instead. Who am I ever to judge her? Who am I ever to rebuke her? I, who am so frail, so brittle, so very hard to bend. She is the epitome of flexibility and grace. God bless her as we do. Or rather, may we bless her as God will surely do. And has. And does. Amen.

Praise God that His wisdom saw it fitting to create mothers. He didn't have to. But He did nevertheless.