Saturday, April 11, 2009


I started my drive home to Oregon for the Easter holiday, a 3 o'clock in the afternoon. By the time I got into the depths of Idaho the sun was hanging low in the horizon, my favorite time of day. Normally I detest driving through the bland nothingness that is southern Idaho, I think that is usually because when I am driving through there (at Thanksgiving, Christmas, and sometimes in February) it is all one color, grey. The sky is grey, the road is grey, the fields are grey, I swear even the houses and cars are a shade of grey. But, this time, it was different. This time I was able to see the small beginnings of spring yawning as they peeled off the covers of a long, cold winter. The grass and field sprouts were bright green, in between blue skies hung purple clouds full of those spring showers that (hopefully) bring May flowers. Cows were grazing, calves were milking, sprinklers were going in fields. It was glorious.

I had the opportunity to go to Phyllis Smith's (my uncle Gareld's mom) funeral yesterday morning. It was a nice memorial to a woman who lived a good life and is now able to get up out of that wheelchair she was confined to for 19 years. Among other things, funerals give us the chance to remember the things in life that matter.... God, family, friends, and just living.

I easily forget the beautiful simplicity to be found in life. I let the small things and the unsureities roll until this big complicated ball of yarn is all I can see. There's a song that I recently heard that says basically we shouldn't just be happy when we finally reach the top of life's mountains, because life is about the climb.

Yesterday I went to a cheesy movie with my littlest sister, and my now taller than me teenage brother. I sat on my mom's lap in her trusty arm chair. I woke up to the family dog Tobi snuggled up next to my bum. Today I ran by a tractor on the highway. Tomorrow I will sit in a pew at church and remember the sacrifice that allows me to live such a happy and hopeful life, and then sit down with those who love me the most to enjoy a bountiful feast.

Something about coming home has been a renewal and a reminder of the things that truly matter. It puts things in perspective. It allows me to take a deep breath of fresh country air. I hope as we prepare for this Easter sunday we will remember the things that matter most and the sacrifice of our Father's son that allows us to live.

Galatians 2:20

I am crucified with Christ: nevertheless I live; yet not I, but Christ liveth in me: and the life which I now live in the flesh I live by the faith of the Son of God, who loved me, and gave himself for me.

1 comment:

Anna Jay said...

I love this post. You are a fantastic writer. And I love your freckle-y baby cheeks. Please keep being awesome.