The Grace of April
or
Kissing Tulips
All things seem to be in bloom - but not the rich, pungent ripeness of midsummer abundance. Bushes, trees, daffodils, tulips all shimmer softly in the cool air, relinquishing fresh colors to an ever-brightening sky. The shade of new leaves tentatively spreads across cold pavement and young grass. Colors are pure and radiant in the sun's golden light. All the earth is waking, stretching, sighing, smiling
and all the college students are running around like crazy people.
This is the traditional time in the cycle of semester when all deadlines coming stampeding in and all sanity falls by the wayside. Stress is tangible, so thick you might choke on it. The common refrain, echoing across campus, is simply "IS IT OVER? are we done yet?". (I am well-versed in these feelings, having been dreaming of summer sun since about February. )
The grace of April, however, is perspective. Two things ring true, slipping through the cacophony of academia with the soft, clear tones of spring:
1. I was made by this God
2. I am entirely irrelevant
Good stuff. But you are relevant.
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