Spring on the Horizon

"To me the meanest flower that blows can give
Thoughts that do often lie too deep for tears."
--William Wordsworth

That's it--I've decided to be a blogger. I can't guarantee that it will last a tremendously long time, but I couldn't get past the desire to write today. And somehow, the desire wasn't appeased by my journal. I've been posting more one-liners on Facebook than normal and I figure I might as well bleed the thoughts over into more extensive writing.

Today is slated to be the warmest day of the year so far--sunny, blue sky, the works. I've always known that spring was my season, and I'm feeling it profoundly this morning. It's like we don't even realize that we're muddling through life until suddenly...we're not anymore. Don't get me wrong--I think winter is lovely. In fact, it snowed just the other day, but instead of joining the throng of Utah weather bashers, I just smiled and said, "It's not going to last, but it sure does make life interesting."

But in spite of a stubborn optimism, I can't deny that winter puts me into a rut. I went to my seminary teaching class this morning feeling...dry. Not in a tell-cynical-jokes kind of sense, but rather in an I'm-spiritually-thirsty sense. But I didn't want to be there. I felt negative. And when I'm in one of those moods, everything feels trite. How true it is that we can shut ourselves off from feeling.

At any rate, something was said or something slipped past my crustiness, and I started feeling severely emotionally vulnerable. Those are the times when we need the atonement of Jesus Christ the most--whatever the vulnerability stems from. And as we were reading through a talk in class, I was reminded of my favorite truth: the Gospel = repentance = positive change. I almost cried--not because it's a new idea, but because the application was new and important. I jumped into the discussion and started feeling like a "watered garden" again (Isaiah 58:11).

T.S. Eliot said that April--and by association, spring--is cruel for stirring roots in the comfortably forgetful earth. In some respects, he was right--change and growth hurt. But those little flowers poking their heads out signify getting out of the rut and feeling something good again.