Springtime Craziness

I forayed out into the spring world in the blue hours of this morning. I’ve been up with the birds of late and have made it a habit to greet the dawnlight with an hour of walking. It is good, unspeakably good for my soul and body to stride out into the freshness of the waxing sunlight, to watch the soaring joy of the myriad birds as they reclaim their wintered nests, to witness the ever-changing drama of the mountain sky. I find that my hour grounds me, plants my feet firm in the humble goodness of God’s green earth, reminding me of my place as tiny, yet beloved creature, teaching me of his nature as it is expressed in what he has made.

But this morning especially brought me a rare insight, filled me with a strange gladness. It was a storm morning, one of those dappled, rushing dawns with great swaths of mist pouring over the western mountains, challenging the sunlight’s slow advance in the east. Headphones in and jacket zipped tight against the keening of the wind, I gloried in it. I felt that chill blue briskness of looming storm, the aspens shuddering, the sky darkling, and I was heady and bright with the beauty. My walk was almost rhythmic as my music came pouring into my ears to accompany the drama of the rare day around me.

I had walked a good five minutes before the words of the song I was hearing registered in the breathlessness of my thought. “Love like crazy”. It was a song by Chris Rice, one of my family’s all-time favorite artists, and it was all about love, the love of Christ; quick, and free, and downright crazy in its goodness. And as I heard the words the wind swerved suddenly to miss a streak of lightning and his gust caught a flock of sparrows and flung them laughing through the blue air to catch their balance in the lush growth of new leaves. I looked up and saw the new growth of vines and flowers, pushing inexorably up through the rain-soaked earth. Saw the lake, full from the spring storms, etched with the dancing of the wind. And suddenly the music and the words and the storm-swept world around me took eachother’s hands and fused their beauties into a coherent thought in my mind.

Love like crazy. Love like this wild storm.  Live with this goodness rushing through you. It was as if I could see a picture of God’s wild love before me in the unbounded beauty of the storm and rush of the wind; saw the unfetteredness of his life in the tangle of new vines and profusion of leaves and zip of the birds. There is nothing that holds itself back either in springtime or in the unexplainable mercy of God’s love for me. And to love like crazy, to love as Christ did, means to love freely, in unbounded gladness. Love must be rampant in its goodness, an untameable force of new life that broaches no resistance. I must love like crazy; love like the blue of the sky in its vast blueness, in its endless drama of color. I must love like the wind, with a dance and a flourish, unchained by bitterness or judgment. I must love like the verdant, springtime earth, in a growing abandon of life that covers the ground that is barren and brings shade to the sun-scorched heart.

I needed my lesson from the goodness of God’s creation this morning. I am such a soul of justice, walk in such a weights-and-measures sort of goodness that is tempted only to love when it is is earned, only to accept grace if I deserve it. But the wildness of this springtime morning, with the soundtrack of that single thought helped me to enter back into the grace of God, into the springtime freedom of his endless love.

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2 Comments

Filed under Musings, Nature

2 responses to “Springtime Craziness

  1. Emily Rose

    Dearest Sarah,
    Leaving a comment on a blog is certainly not the most personal way to reaquaint oneself with an old friend, but I’ve just found your blog (after months of searching) and am delighted to enjoy your enriching writing once more. After reading your blog I now have a vivid idea of what has been happening in your life for the past two years, and its been longer than that since I’ve seen you! But, come to think of it, you probably have no idea who I am so forgive me; I’m Emily Klema. The last time I enjoyed your company was at a Whole Heart Conference in Dallas, during Febuary of 2004. and I can’t recall writing you since then. But I think we can owe that to the fact that both our families have moved and I never gave you our new address. We have moved from our old house in Raleigh and now my family is enjoying life in a new house (which we can honestly call a cottage due to Mama’s decorating skills and home maker’s heart.) If I’m correct, you are back in Colorado and I’m so happy for you….it seems you belong there, having lived there for so long. Just reading one of your posts, narrating a walk you took one stormy morning, paints a wonderful picture of how lovely your life in Colorado is. You have been one of the most influential women in my life and I’ve missed writing to you. There has always been such an unmistakable presence in your writing that’s always made me think I was listening to you speaking in my own room, and I have missed that. But now I can get a taste of it through your blog.
    I know that there are endless things to catch up on and also that you are a busy woman, but hopefully Time will be generous and we will be able to see each other some time in the near future. Until then, my thoughts and prayers are with you and I will be one of your many ardent readers!
    Lovingly, Emily Rose Klema

  2. Hello,

    I am trying to get in touch with Emily Klema, who commented here. Could you help me please?

    Thanks,
    Beth
    polkadotpaint@gmail.com

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