~ Dancing with My Father by Sally Clarkson (WaterBrook Press, 2010)
* * * * *
I realize the weather here in Louisiana is on the outter part of the seasonal merry-go-round. We are one of the first to thaw. And while everyone else is still experiencing the roar of a lion, we are hearing the gentle mew of a lamb.
Still, it's cold out there so we are not quite ready to give up our hunkering tendancies: fuzzy socks, steins full of hot chocolate, warm ovens of comfort food, and, yes, even our 21st century parlor games .
These things are not all bad in and of themselves. But there are other things, more precious things in life.
That's why Sally's words hold truth the way these sheltering oak trees hold a new harvest of acorns within its deep recesses. If I don't pay heed, these mellow clouds will one day hail acorns down upon my housetop and I will be caught unaware that the seasons have changed.
Sally's words woke me from my winter lethargy.
It's time to plan and get prepared for a new season; one that will promise escape from these "closed windows", "enclosed boxes", and "machines".
One that will open the windows and let God in.
After all, life originally began in a garden and I know, without a doubt, what a beautiful invitation it is, delivered straight from the hand of God.
Mustard and turnip greens, anyone?