Spring will come.
I know this.
I feel this.
I see it in red crescents on black wings.
And in waking earth as it stretches from under white quilt.
I hear it in melting tears.
A new season is on its way.
A fresh start.
But time suspends itself this morning in frozen filigree that line my daughter’s drive.
And in diamond facets that spill over white carpet spread out under apple tree.
I want to stop and freeze frames of this wonderland.
But the baby’s in her car seat, and it’s very cold.
Later, after I’ve wiped runny nose and strained banana-smeared mouth.
Later, after I’ve cleaned bottom, fed bottle, burped, and bedded.
I go to the yard to capture icy tears.
“Whose fault is it?” he asked yesterday.
Mine, of course. It’s always my fault.
It’s a family joke.
But deep down, a part of me still believes it.
If I had taught better, shown better.
If I’d been more clear, more consistent.
If I hadn’t enabled.
If I’d made different choices.
Then maybe others would have made different choices.
As if I was perfect.
As if I had control.
I remember tears poured.
And the lyrics of the song from yesterday spill.
At the foot of the cross
Where grace and suffering meet
You have shown me your love
Through the judgment you received
And you’ve won my heart
Yes, you’ve won my heart
Now I can
Trade these ashes in for beauty
And wear forgiveness like a crown
Coming to kiss the feet of mercy
I lay every burden down
At the foot of the cross.
I remember that He sees my tears.
And their tears.
That He bottles my tears.
And their tears.
“What’s done is done,” he says. “He offers a fresh start, not a do-over.”
I’ll judge each of you according to the way you live. ~Ezekiel 18:30 (Message)
I snap some pictures and go inside to wash sweet potato tears from my shirt.
She will wake soon.
She will make choices.
And there will always be a fresh start.
Bring us back to you, God–we’re ready to come back. Give us a fresh start. ~Lamentations 5:21 (Message)
Where do you need a fresh start?
Linking with Laura.
And Michelle.
And L.L.
And you thought you might not manage a Monday post at all! So beautifully said here, Sandra!
For many years I berated myself with the “if only” of regret, so a fresh start, not a do-over… that has a lot of significance for me.
I barely made it before my computer turned into a pumpkin. 😉
We might as well take a fresh start. Especially since a “do-over” is pretty much out of the question. 🙂
Beautiful Sandra.
Thanks, Michael.
I love this, Sandy! Icy tears…beautiful. Isn’t grace such the beautiful thing? Your words remind me how blessed I am.
Hugs to you, beauty snapping, icy-tear collecting, banana smear mouth wiping beloved!
😀 I love you, Laura!
“Every day is a fresh start.” If I’ve said it once, I’ve said it a hundred (thousand?) times. I’m grateful all the same for yet another reminder that we don’t get nor do we need do-overs.
And His compassions never fail. They are new every morning.
I have a mug that says that. 😉
And this is freshness to me, these words of yours, mined from hard earth and earnest yearning and deep regrets. This is life, not that we have done anything, but that He has done all that is needed.
And it is finished.
Beautiful, Sandy.
When do I need a fresh start? Every. Single. Day.
Me. Too.
Yeah. Fresh start. Today. and every single day.
Beautiful writing Sandra and gorgeous photography.
All of it touched my heart.
Thanks so much, Louise.
Beautiful, Sandy. Thank God for the grace of fresh starts, newness every morning.
And I love your photos, too!
And to walk in that gratitude every moment . . .
Beautiful images, Sandy. And fresh starts are SO much better than do-overs!
Thank you, Kim. It strikes me that a do-over is almost like a coverup. I’d rather be fresh from the inside out. 🙂
Fresh start — I much prefer fresh-start to do-over. Do-over digs up too much…already-done stuff.
But blast it all, I’d sure like to get it right the first time, just once.
Beautiful piece of your heart here, Sandy.
Good point! Some things just need to be buried. For good.