I woke up to a fresh heavy coat of snow. It is funny how snow affects my spirits differently in the spring. I do not think I admire its beauty as much when it has covered the ground for months. Instead, I find myself looking for little signs of spring. I look for glimpses of grass and the shine of puddles. I listen for birds and the trickling of water. I have an idea in my head of when spring should begin, but the world does not always agree.
On our almost spring days my son and I have started taking walks. I thought with our extra time we could walk to the park about a mile from our house. My son had a different path in mind. On the way to the park a hidden side street caught his eye. Where I saw a random turn, he saw sure adventure. His curiosity was rewarded. We found birds and little streams. He made up stories about each mysterious drive we passed. He now wants to explore this road every time we go out and each day he succeeds in finding or creating a new adventure on this little strip of pavement.
As Lent ought to end soon, I took some time this morning to reflect on the intentions I held as I moved into this season. I was hoping to give more time to my family and grow in detachment. God sorted that first one for me pretty decidedly. Growth in detachment, however, was given as a choice. Everyday I must decide whether or not to practice this virtue. I have found that when I chose detachment my day flows smoother, my heart is open to better love my family, and my vision is clearer so that I can drink in the good things present in this extended winter.
I do not always succeed. Sometimes I hold on too tightly to a routine that I create for myself. Family life is full of interruptions. My son’s mind is always creating and questioning. When I try to closely guard my plans, I sometimes miss opportunities to chase down one of these paths of inquiry or create something new. Although my husband is working from home, his day is full of weighty decisions and expectations. When I am too focused on my designs for the day, I sometimes miss random opportunities to connect when he comes up for air. When I look for perfection I sometimes miss the goodness right in front of my eyes.
When my arms are open and my grasp is loose I can embrace what God has planted in my day. When I choose detachment I see little unexpected paths that lead to gratitude. A dear friend of mine hunkering down in the Midwest recently shared her excitement over finding tiny potatoes at Cosco. If you have been to Cosco recently you might understand her reaction. As we visited, she reflected on that grace this season has brought. It seems all our eyes are a bit more open to the joy found within these little discoveries. Now each day when we visit we tell each other what our tiny potatoes were for that day. I have noticed that my tiny potatoes are not found on my agenda, rather they are found in the midst of the more unexpected moments of each day. Yesterday, I watched a Steller’s jay preparing to nest. I wonder what tiny potato today will bring?
The Steller’s jay that nests along our little road.