I think of my children and how so quickly, my oldest son creeps up on ten. How quickly I came into myself at thirty. How love has become something so different than what it was.
It seems as if so many times we are unaware of the process and when within it seems long, tedious, hard and rocky but though the wind and the rain there are days of sun and breeze and if we beam up long enough we create an invitation where our roots might be fed, our petals spread.
Hope grows, too.
But these are choices to choose the life offered, the bread, the light, the air and the water. To not whither but to bravely do our part. Our part may only be a small willingness.
He can work with that.