Love, Grow, & Overflow

My cup overflows. My laundry does too.




It’s spring here, officially, although you wouldn’t know it from the twenty degree weather.  A thin layer of snow covers everything like dust in an attic.  Where the grass pops through, it’s brown and wilted.  A season of plowing has left tire ruts in the ground along the driveways, a bent sapling, stray rocks on the lawn.  A months-old snow pile sits at the end of the parking lot, shrunken and black with exhaust.

We’re weary.

It’s still cold enough for scarves and gloves but I leave them at home. I’m tired of the barrenness. We walk out in the mornings and breathe through our noses, waiting for the scents of pollen and buds and soil.  Our spring clothes are ready, sealed in plastic bins in the corner of the closet.

I long for children running and shouting in a place that is not my living room.

I long for forecasts that don’t use phrases like “wind chill” and “lake effect.”

I long for news stories that don’t use words like “victimized” and “unconscious” together.


So weary.


This Sunday is Palm Sunday, and I long for arrivals: for lush green palms to cover the dusty paths, for sun-kissed knees and shins and forearms and ankles, for breezes thick with life.  For hope.

Come, Lord Jesus.  Save us.





  1. My God bless us and put hope into our hearts of things reborn and renewed.

  2. Lovely post. Thanks for sharing your weariness. I think I’d be weary in the same way if I’d been paying more attention to the weather this past month. With new life (literally) staring me in the face, I’ve barely noticed the snow, but I know we will all notice and sigh contentedly when spring really arrives.

    • Jaime

      March 30, 2013 at 9:22 am

      It’s a different kind of weary with a little one! 🙂 And the sunshine is finally coming, I can see it! (Even if I can’t feel its warmth much yet!)

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