And then, unexpectedly . . .
Unexpectedly, things began to look up. I swear, the clouds parted, the sun shone, and, well, it was a hawk, not an angel. But close enough. Something was singing.
Now, I'm not a religious person, but I 'm deeply spiritual. The beauty of the simple things on this planet--the sun setting over a glass-smooth river, a cardinal singing from a snow-covered branch--never fail to leave me awe-struck by a Power much larger than anything I'll ever understand. But nothing brings me closer to Earth than this:
This is a spiritual experience for me. There's not a lot here, just a few green shoots that have made it past the frozen deadness of winter. I counted seven total. Next week, there might be seventy. In another month, there'll be hundreds. Thousands, even. I put a lot of daffodil bulbs in the ground because after a long, dark winter, I cling to the hope that Spring promises with big, sunny flowers. Spring. It's so close I can see it, growing right before my eyes.
This is my prayer.
*Programming note: Don't forget to read the last blog from Tuesday to find out more about my first-ever radio interview, next Tuesday!