May

It is May again. I love this month for hopeful buds and fruit-filled seed pods scattered on the edges of streets and some on the soil where they may find a place to take root. It feels like such a miracle, this annual victory of life over what seemed like death, so cold, determined and definite a closure. But life returns.

Life is in birdsong and the spring of grass beneath my feet. How strong the life force in a blade of grass—and what weight they do uphold when mustered together.

I walk and feel, see, smell, and hear evidence of the miracle of life. I give thanks for the beauty of planet earth –the blue dome above us, the warmth on my shoulders cloaked in sun rays.

In my years of growing old, I am grateful for life-lived, even more, thankful for life now, with children grown, grandchildren, and a life partner who loves me and whom I love, after all our years together.

These things are so precious, as are the many friendships that I treasure. Yet I know now not to cling to them. God gives us each gift in its time and for its time, but if ever we close our fingers and hold on too tightly, we betray our trust in the Giver of all good things, who waits for us to let go when it is time, so that he may give us yet another, more excellent gift. For that is his nature: never to take without giving again.

So I am at peace. I cherish the joy of this day and this very moment. I contemplate the buds and seeds and know that they are the messengers of God. There is no loss in surrender to winter, only rest, only waiting for rebirth.

God is with us in each moment of our lives, and he is so perfect and always faithful. So I trust, I celebrate and am grateful.