Rain. My purple and pink tulips are blooming, only they aren't purple and pink. They are yellow, orange, red, and some slighly pink ones. Turns out the only purple and pink tulips were in the pictures on the bags of bulbs.
I am listening to the news this morning - all about Boston of course, the bombing. Three people died, one was a little boy which is always harder to bear. At least ten people lost limbs and 140 are injured. The images are so awful.
I brought home four more chicks this weekend; two babies from the farm store and two rescues from the animal shelter; kids' Easter presents that didn't work out. The older two bullied and bloodied one of the babies. She's very sick with nasty wounds on both sides of her tiny head. Ben named her Argyle. He doctors her and we all baby her constantly, hoping she won't die. Feeding the others this morning I realized I need to baby the bullies, fetch them some worms from the garden and pet them. They aren't cute to me right now and I'm still mad at them. My niece said, "I'd be cranky too if I just came from a place with a hundred cats," which made me laugh and softened my heart a little.
For better or worse, things rarely turn out exactly as we plan, hope or imagine. Initially we are suprised, horrified, angry, sad. The next moment we choose what meaning we will make; the garden is beautiful . . . . the world is full of helpers . . . . . the bullies can be taught to love . . . . From the meaning come our words and deeds.
The sun is trying to shine and my yard is sparkling with light. Whatever this day holds, may we receive it with gentle joy and grace. ~ peace & prayers, pastor annette