This blog vacation business is far easier than I thought it would be. But my blog is getting kind of sad, in a purely emotional sense, and it’s time for me to come back… at least a little bit.

I have yet to write about the dawning of spring—glorious and delightful spring!—in Lincoln, Nebraska. Several weeks ago we experienced many days of unparalleled temperatures. It was sunny and warm, relatively speaking, and Livia and I took walks every day. But then the skies grew gray once more, we were bound by four walls again, and poor Liv struggled to understand why we couldn’t go outside to play. (Clearly, frigid temps mean nothing to my little person.) Slowly over the last several weeks something amazing, albeit a yearly event you think I’d get used to someday, occurred. It was two steps forward, one step back with warm days and cold days and somehow, in all kinds of ways, spring arrived at our doorstep. Our grass is green, our viburnum is unfurling adorable fuzzy green leaves, and our child is dropping like a rock by 7:30pm from all the fresh air play.

To me, spring is more than a season of sunshine and blooming daffodils. I find deep joy and renewal in sitting on the porch and watching the neighborhood come alive with activity. My heart actually rejoices when the sun’s rays are warm on my cheeks and the breezes are lightly cool against my bare arms. Though I began this day with angst and frustration in the hidden corners of my heart, I found God’s grace and glory freely given to me in every hour. And at the conclusion of this beautiful spring day, I’m reminded of this passage in Psalm 16:

LORD, you have assigned me my portion and my cup;
you have made my lot secure.
The boundary lines have fallen for me in pleasant places;
surely I have a delightful inheritance.