Let's just say I had no desire yesterday morning of waking up early. I had no desire to bundle up and definitely not even a hint of a desire to want to stand outside all bundled up and still shivering before this race that I had helped coordinate and was obligated to therefore run. Let's just say I ran rather quickly, crossed the finish line and continued to run, straight back to my car which held my winter coat. Afterwards I shivered for another two hours at the park for a social for one of the organizations at school. By 2:00 pm, I had shivered for a solid 6 hours and a 4-year-old child had bluntly pointed out that my lips were purple.
I went home finally and took a very warm shower, put on sweatpants, stopped for some cinnamon hazelnut spiced hot chocolate and headed to the library for another Saturday afternoon of studying.
I woke up today, on Sunday morning, a bit hesitant to look outside. I woke up not expecting sunlight but secretly hoping for it. I knew I needed to study yet again today and I was dreading it. So I postponed the task for as long as possible - trying frugally to hang on to a bit of my Sunday peace. I made cookies at 8:00 am. I read my scriptures and got all ready for church.
And I felt super emotional while there. Not necessarily bad emotional. I was just overwhelmed suddenly by so many blessings and conversely by so many trials. I was relieved by the sun shining on my drive to the building but conversely weakened by feeling trapped in the clouds of the week. I listened to friends comment throughout the lessons. I listened to friends talk of trials. And I didn't comment myself. I was beautifully content in observational silence - drinking in the thoughts of the people I had been blessed to spend time with this afternoon.
The discussion took a brief turn to discuss the dews of Heaven -
"Let thy bowels also be full of charity towards all men, and to the household of faith, and let virtue garnish they thought unceasingly; then shall thy confidence wax strong in the presence of God; and the doctrine of the priesthood shall distil upon thy soul as the dews from Heaven." D&C 121:25
Talk of the verse lasted maybe a minute and the conversation moved on, but I didn't. I was transfixed for quite some time on the beauty of that concept. Of the pure doctrine and blessings of the Gospel and of Heavenly Father's truth and love raining down gently into our souls. Purifying us if only we allow it to. Cleansing and refreshing us, nearly imperceptibly, until we stop to consider the peace of that dew upon us and wonder where and how it miraculously came to rest in us.
That's a beautiful and complex image that was still dancing in my mind when I arrived home from church quite some time later and pulled into my driveway only to become transfixed by a vibrant orange blossom that hadn't been there when I left this morning. I had known my tulips had been growing back. But I had somewhat given up on them - at least until Spring figured out that it wasn't supposed to be Winter anymore. And while I had been at church, the sun had shown. And those green stems had imperceptibly blossomed a vibrant flower of peace. That one little bright light of orange had distilled hope from heaven of a brighter week.
Becasue, after all, it can't rain forever. But sometimes it takes rain to allow for the greatest morning dew. And when the sun refuses to shine, the tulips were diligently waiting. And their impercepitble coming, like dew in the mornings, was perhaps more peaceful and calming and hopeful than an impatient watching. Life is beautiful. :)
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