The In-between Season

Typical tree many days, including yesterday, this spring.

Pearl Street Mall on Sunday

Yes, the sun is brightly shining!  It was still nippy (41 degrees) when I went for a walk about 4 pm.  Enough of Tuesday night and Wednesday's 10.5" of snow had fallen from the trees that I could walk under the big pines that are just outside my condo without fear of a big clump of the white stuff falling on my head (as it did earlier when I went to the mailbox).  Tomorrow it is supposed to reach 50!

April and May are usually in-between months for hiking in this area, particularly in the near mountains--mud season as snow melts and water runs in streams down the trails.  I'm having withdrawal symptoms as I haven't been out snowshoeing for almost three weeks.  I've even resorted to the StairMaster at the Y for aerobic exercise since I'm there for Pilates twice a week.  (Oh yes, I feel rather righteous about the Reformer Pilates I've been doing twice a week, going no matter what.)

In between--that's how my life feels right now.  I feel as if I know what I'm called to do, yet the how, where and when are elusive.  The friend who offered to connect me with a Utah community has now fled this fickle spring for a warmer climate, not to return until June.  If any of you want to be on my prayer team--the request is for me to see the "how to begin" soon.  A "where" would be good too.  My young priest-to-be (soon) friend said that he knows God is doing something good in my life.  I'd like to know what that is!

My in-between season has been marked by huge bouts of grief--pain too, but largely grief.  The darkness of snowy days and cold have made this spring perfect for dark revelations.  Befriending the teenager in me who was angry and determined to make it through those years and to see retribution has allowed the grief and loneliness to come to the surface.  Now I'm the one who is always saying that bringing the pain to the surface so that God can heal is the important work.  Right!?  I know that to be true--and I know it to bring on deep fatigue too.  It has sometimes seemed too much and too lonely--and I have remembered that even if I were in contact with my daughter, she wouldn't want to know about any of this.  You may not want to know about it too--but you can click a computer button and disengage.

My lack of energy to do more than my commitments (oh yes, they are sometimes a bit much) has been forcing me to do this grief and loneliness work.  Now I'm looking outside at the sunny (still cold) day and awaiting the spring flowers.  I know they will come!
 
                                Golden Banner from Goshawk Trail near Boulder in April, 2012

                                                    Sugarbowls -- also from last year