Wednesday, April 16, 2008
Seasons
Now that this computer is working again, I've been checking daughter, Bev's posts at "Scratchin' The Surface" almost daily, to see how her writings are coming along. This morning the brick decoration on her dining room wall pulled me toward it, as I read words she'd put there, about remembering our moments, and letting the years go by.
I was already heady, after reading about granddaughter Sarah finding her name in a brick at she and her family's new home. While I'm not real learned with all of the Bible, those words on Bev's wall kept me there awhile, reminding me of something in the Old Testament, something I think, about being faithful to God.
Kings and queens may leave their insignias on paper decrees, and those may be in history awhile. When God emphasizes His will and control of our lives, He may use simple things, like a dirt covered brick that's been setting somewhere a long, long time with a name on it, waiting for Sarah to find.
But back to the present, or is it the future; a day of not knowing quite what to do with myself, I get in the car, and soon am driving to a neighborhood I'd almost covered with memories of many years. If it wouldn't sound so crazy, or I wouldn't get arrested, I could almost rename part of the town "One woman's walk through life". When I am brave enough sometimes, I glance at my older form, and remember a decade or more of having lived there. Time spent in nurses training, and at the local college, and years I still don't want to believe I tossed away so easily.
As I let those memories go back where they belong, all I'm seeing there are pretty flowers pushing through the grounds, the clockworking of another Spring. Less kind seasons, summer's harsh heat bearing down, after winters, even blizzards of quiet supremacy their brutal beauty would deny.
A part of me wants to hold onto the pictures of it all in my mind, but I've already lingered there too long. Not quite certain, but determined to try, I wonder if it's possible to make a nostalgia for tomorrow. I smile a moment at the memories I don't want to let go, and head my car back home.
I was already heady, after reading about granddaughter Sarah finding her name in a brick at she and her family's new home. While I'm not real learned with all of the Bible, those words on Bev's wall kept me there awhile, reminding me of something in the Old Testament, something I think, about being faithful to God.
Kings and queens may leave their insignias on paper decrees, and those may be in history awhile. When God emphasizes His will and control of our lives, He may use simple things, like a dirt covered brick that's been setting somewhere a long, long time with a name on it, waiting for Sarah to find.
But back to the present, or is it the future; a day of not knowing quite what to do with myself, I get in the car, and soon am driving to a neighborhood I'd almost covered with memories of many years. If it wouldn't sound so crazy, or I wouldn't get arrested, I could almost rename part of the town "One woman's walk through life". When I am brave enough sometimes, I glance at my older form, and remember a decade or more of having lived there. Time spent in nurses training, and at the local college, and years I still don't want to believe I tossed away so easily.
As I let those memories go back where they belong, all I'm seeing there are pretty flowers pushing through the grounds, the clockworking of another Spring. Less kind seasons, summer's harsh heat bearing down, after winters, even blizzards of quiet supremacy their brutal beauty would deny.
A part of me wants to hold onto the pictures of it all in my mind, but I've already lingered there too long. Not quite certain, but determined to try, I wonder if it's possible to make a nostalgia for tomorrow. I smile a moment at the memories I don't want to let go, and head my car back home.
