of a color intermediate between black and white, as of ashes or an overcast sky
Michigan does not see the sun in abundance over the winter months. This winter unseasonable cold arrived, like most people are experiencing. Also, snow, we have lots and lots of snow. We even had five snow days in a row… a gift, but all this added up leaves a little crazy.
The last snow day, the kids were rolling around in laundry baskets on my bed yelling boomer babies. This past Saturday at 9:30 am Ellie was in the kitchen hauling out salsa con queso and tortilla chips.
Just like endless winter, I long to fast forward sometimes. I want to make the huge difference… I want the published book in my hands… I want to be everything to everyone all the time.
The first day that feels like spring in Michigan is magical. Thanksgiving cannot help but well up in your heart. There is sun finally warming your face. You do not have to wear all the gear anymore. In Josiah’s words, “I can’t stand to put it all on again! It’s like getting dressed a hundred times a day.”
It is winter that makes it sweeter though. The struggle, the dig deep, the persevering makes it deeper when it comes. That is us. That is proximity.
We are the people who carry others through the gray of winter seasons.
I was sitting at my desk Saturday night, completely lost. I had just read Ann Voskamp and a million other women who are amazing writers, confident and strong, very un-me. I took a break to check a message on facebook, and one of my dear friends had taken the time to encourage me. It meant everything in that moment, the gray seeped to sun.
That is us.
That is proximity.
Where does gray show up for you? Can you find open doors through it?