The grass is still green here. It is almost all year, except sometimes in August when the sun gets hot enough to sizzle it down to its roots, and some of us don't want to spend money on the water it would take to make it green again.
Green grass doesn't equal blue sky. I see it sometimes, almost everyday...it peeks through the thick, heavy gray clouds and stays for a minute or so, and then it's gone again. When it goes, it takes my hope with it.
Around March I start to hate the rain. I feel like it has soaked through my very skin and is trying to drown me from the inside out. Call it seasonal affective disorder, call it depression, cabin fever...what you will. Whatever it is, it makes me want to crawl under the covers and never emerge.
And then comes the snow. I love snow! I love snow in the winter, when it's supposed to be there. I love snow during Christmas time. But snow at the end of March is almost too much. It makes me feel like spring, however close it seems on the calendar, is a long way off.
I wonder if this happens to everyone. Does everyone get down? Does everyone feel inadequate as a friend, a wife, a mom? Or is it this rain? This soup that I'm constantly swimming in - does it bog me down with inside things, like burned toast and past regrets?
I'm waiting for the sun. I need it. Just a little. It sheds light on all my failures and short comings. It shows me that I'm not good enough, and that's ok. I have help, I have grace, I have forgiveness. And although this rain feels like it will be here forever, it will not. In a month or two the weather will warm a bit, and the flowers will freckle the always-green grass.