Forgiveness

Slowly, slowly, Kame is waking up. He still needs to be dug out and shown his food, placed in his pan of water, reminded to eat and to drink, but he is more alert, more active, for short periods of time. As the days grow longer and the mercury in the thermometer begins to edge higher, he is remembering that winter does not last forever, and spring is coming. He is coming out of hibernation and remembering what it's like to be alive. He is awakening.

Sometimes I have felt as if the path we've been on would never end. An arctic wasteland seemed to stretch out in front of me as we struggled to piece our marriage, and our family back together. We were wandering through Narnia, where winter is eternal and Christmas never comes.

Then, one day, a flower broke through the snow. There was a moment, looking into my husband's eyes, that I saw him soften, saw the ice melt just a bit, saw the faint sparkle of the old humor, the understanding and acceptance, the fun. The first crack had taken hold, and the ice couldn't keep together.

I think that life is nothing more, and nothing less, than a series of choices. Over a year ago, I stood at a crossroads, and felt that the choice I made would direct the rest of my life. Since then, I've stood at many crossroads, and made many choices, each of which has sent my life, our lives, in new directions. No one choice has been irrevocable. No one decision has changed my life so much that I can't go back and choose another direction.

In a few weeks' time, I will begin college classes. Twenty years ago, I left college and never looked back. Now I am standing once more on the threshold of education, wondering where the springboard of a degree will take me. How high will I be able to jump? Will I finally reach my goals? I have grown and changed, but I have carried my dreams along with me like a satchel. Some things are just too precious to leave behind.

A year ago last Thanksgiving, I thought my marriage was ending. I believed we were destined to break apart like glass shattered on the rocks of betrayal and disappointment. I believed a part of my life was over, that the lightning strike had destroyed us.

Over a year later, the first cautious buds are emerging. New growth is appearing where only charred, smoking ruin lay frozen in the ice. The early flowers are poking brave tendrils up through the snow, putting on an occasional burst of color and fragrance, unafraid of the frost and the chill still in the air. Spring is approaching. Life is new. Forgiveness is settling on our shoulders like a comfortable blanket, warming the chill away and reminding us how good it is to stand in the sun, basking and warm.

Spring is coming, I can feel it, and it is good.

Rejoicing in the day,
-Mary

"Forgiveness comes after a long time. After a long and gentle rain of tears. The earth is soaked and the smell of springtime is in the air. New life will come."
..."I have forgiven today, which could not help but come. I have forgiven yesterday, which could not help but pass. I will forgive tomorrow, too."

-Walk Softly, Rachel, by Kate Banks