lenten journal: daffodil day

I was walking from my car to the kitchen this afternoon when I saw a little gang of daffodils in full bloom – on March 3. Those of you who live in non-New England types of climates may not understand the disorientation I experienced. I’m not used to flowers in March that aren’t either cut or forced. Ginger and I always went to the New England Flower Show in March because we were ready for a break from the winter that was far from over, so we walked around in the Bayside Expo Center and talked about what we would plant over Memorial Day Weekend.

March!

I feel rushed. Even Jesus is coming out of the tomb early. He’ll be resurrected before the NCAA basketball tournament is over. I feel rushed, pushed, out of time with the world around me. I also feel out of words, which feels as unusual to me as daffodils in what should still be winter. I want to have something to say because I want to be true to my Lenten practice and I feel empty. It is not yet springtime in my mind (at least not tonight).

Beyond my shocking encounter with those little yellow trumpets, today was an exercise in frustration as we were unable to close on our house because of lawyer stuff. (If I actually understood what they were talking about, I would be more specific.) The closing will happen in the morning. we got that word late this afternoon. But it didn’t happen today and I think that’s part of my wordlessness. I’m caught in-between and I don’t find much else to say about it.

Well, that’s not accurate. I had a lot to say about it today, but most of those words were ones of frustration that were better kept to myself, or at least between me and Ginger. There’s sharing my experiences because I feel like I can use my words to connect with others and then there’s talking about myself because I need it to be about me. Most of my words today have felt like the latter and I think we’re all better off if I don’t inflict them on you.

Frustration aside, today was a good day. We did get word we will pass papers in the morning. Things went well at work. I love my job and my new town. I’m just tired and empty. I saw the flowers today, promising spring. My words just didn’t bloom like I hoped they would.

Peace,
Milton