February Forgotten

I just read a journal entry from camp last summer. I was expressing my frustration with a camper in my cabin. Mara had an appointment and had to leave camp for a few hours on Wednesday afternoon. Wednesday is always the hardest day, because it's the middle of the week, and we have the most activities that day, including camp-out. She had been homesick all week, crying at intervals, trying to participate occasionally, but she simply couldn't rise above it for more than an hour or two.

She left with her mother for the appointment on Wednesday afternoon. Just as I anticipated, in the evening her mother came back to pick up her things, announcing that Mara was finished for the week. Mara stayed in the car while her mother collected her sleeping bag and toothbrush and bathing suit. I was so frustrated with her mother: this is a classic case of enabling. She was giving her an out instead of telling her how strong she was, that she could certainly do this. Now the girl would have to wait until later to discover her own strength.

Let me bring this together: February of this year was my Wednesday. If I had had an out, I would have taken it: a different job, a vacation to Luxembourg. I found myself telling God that he needed to DO something. I felt so hopeless, purposeless, and TIRED. I wrote this poem then:

We forget

The end of February:
the slack damp girds our hearts;
we forget why we came.

We wait
with bated breath.
If your grace does not provide,
We shall have no recourse but to dive out, very far, for hope.

Today, we're undeniably into March. The sun is shining, and I placed a hyacinth in the open window of the office. There it is. February seems like a lifetime away. I know it is God who does this. He doesn't usually pick us up and take us home mid-week, despite our tears and threats. Perhaps merely "February" is a sissy example. Let me assure you, I've been through harder times... But it's not about the superlative nature of a trial. It's about Thursday, after camp-out, when you get a midday nap, and realize how lovely the woods are today, and you're ready to run hard during the evening games.

March, bring it.