3.11.2013

sighs for long ago sunshine...

Today is a beautiful day. It's not cold, it's not hot. I left my desk to answer my phone and went outside to an afternoon that begged to be rejoiced in...

Today is one of those days that i wish i was 11 years old...in the sense that i am yearning to run around my grandparents' backyard with my little sister and play pretend. Go swimming...then sun ourselves on towels spread on the grass. Eat peanut butter and jelly sandwiches while the cool breeze lifts our damp hair around our faces. Make crowns out of clover blossoms. Doze off to the lullaby of soft rustling leaves in the trees, the buzzing of bees, you can almost hear the clouds moving through the cerulean sky. The sounds of a fast-approaching summer. 

But i'm not 11...i'm 30. How did that happen??
I'll never run around my grandparents' backyard and play pretend again. I'll play pretend with my own children one day...but my grandparents' house is gone. We had to sell it 2 years ago.
My mind is heavy with the weight of now. Of being a grown-up...of things like aging parents, being laid-off last week, helping and encouraging a tired husband. Not to mention all the hurt and suffering those around me are experiencing...!

But how wonderful to have memories of those days to think back on and be grateful for. I'm so glad we had that house. I'm so glad the Adams got to bring their babies there. I'm so glad I had a job to support Chad and me these past months, and i know the Lord will bring another along. Chad and i knew this first year of marriage would be hard, with him being in school and working, and me in this industry that i feel i have no place in...but for some reason God has me here. And at least we get to see each other every day...even if it's just for a few hours in the morning or evening.

I guess more than anything i just wish i could go play outside in the sunshine with my sister. in bare feet. in our little girl bodies. with no bigger concern than making sure we didn't get peanut butter and jelly in our hair.

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