IN THE MIDST OF WAITING

Waiting is something that can be learned in a garden.  Each  morning and afternoon I venture to the newly planted vegetable garden to see the progress and visit with a squirrel I have named Fred, as he digs holes to bury next seasons dinner.  He is irritating, and I have conversed with him about it, but he is no less a part of nature than the white wing doves, observing it all from their nest in the oak tree just above the yellow tomato blooms.

I wait for the vegetables to be ready to be picked, Fred waits, most likely to try and beat me to them, and the mother dove waits for her babies to hatch. Perhaps it is in this waiting that we find life. 

It is 6:30 am and the birds are chattering outside my bedroom window, telling me it is time to get up, as is a cold nose nudging my arm under the blanket.  Spring is everywhere. The yellow Forsythia blossoms are vibrant butter yellow.  The pansies are showing their most beguiling faces and the herb plants are at their most fragrant.  It is the time we have waited for all winter.

But in the midst of this it is learned that last week two more of our warriors committed suicide.  They could no longer take the pain of PTSD.  This news has shattered the lives of warriors I personally know here that were  friends of these young men.  How do they overcome this horrific news? How do any of us? How I wish it could have been different.  How I wish I could have somehow helped. 

I don't have the answer.  I don't know who does.  This morning I pray for these young men, and I pray for their families.  And I listen to the birds. I listen to Springtime. I listen to life.  And I cry.

"A bird does not sing because it has an answer.  It sings because it has a song." ~Chinese Proverb