The Lion and the Lamb

I've written about spring before.  I do it every year, actually, as I feel so profoundly grateful and moved to share that gratitude by pounding it out on the keyboard.  Thank you, spring!  Thank you, warmth!  Thank you, lions and lambs!  I love you, both, but damn if I don't feel moved to tears and reflection every year when the lamb overtakes the lion.

It is so unexpected, so David and Goliath, when that lion has a firm hold on you in January and February, to think that sweet, gentle lamb even stands a chance.  You pine for that lamb, but wishing and hoping sometimes get lost in the dark and the cold and the ice and the relentless UGH of the formidable lion's jaw you find yourself in.

This year, the lamb has arrived early in Chicago. Thank you, Universe!

Spring is a beautiful and profound and sacred return.  It is confirmation that light and warmth follow cold and dark. Always.  Spring is our annual reward and promise as human beings that things do, in fact, get better, even in nature.  As a family who has buried one of our children, this promised and expected annual return to life and growth and hope is so very needed.

As time passes after the death of our daughter, my need to find hope seems to increase. Hope is like food, water, or air to me.  I need it to survive. I need to feel and believe that the bad times subside, that life overtakes death, that even when it seems impossible, we will get through whatever it is we are needing to get through.

Spring is a tangible reminder of that for me, especially in the absence of a religion that assures me of the same thing.  My religion is the growing light, the warming temperatures, the melting ice, the fading cold and dark days of deep winter.

Spring lifts me up when I need it most.  It reminds me that life is a cycle, full of good and bad, both of which pass.  When things are bad, you must hope and trust that good will return.  And when things are good, savor it, enjoy it, knowing that things will shift and you will find yourself challenged again.

Life, folks.  It is what it is.  Sometimes it roars like an angry lion, and sometimes it gently rests in the growing grass, like a sweet lamb.  For right now, I am grateful that the lamb is back, bringing warmth and light and Reese's chocolate peanut butter eggs with it.

Lion and Lamb 1

Love to you this fine spring day (not technically, of course, but mentally and emotionally, yo).  xox

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If you need another dose of spring, read this beautiful reflection by my fellow ChicagoNow blogger, Amy Litterski DeSario.

Filed under: Grief, Slice 'o Life

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