Signed with Love, Nelly

We have a cherry blossom tree in our backyard, and as things have been blooming here in California, this tree has been dormant. As everything else budded and then bloomed, I’ve been watching it hopefully. It’s fiery plum color and delicately shaped leaves are my favorite in all of the yard. With the same expectation, I’ve been watching the tall trees along the blacktop trail behind my neighborhood. The leaves on these trees make the most satisfying rustle as the breeze kicks through them, and I couldn’t wait to hear them again. A week ago, I stood at the glass door looking out into the backyard, and all of a sudden, I yelped “it bloomed!” My sister was completely confused and I tried to explain that I had been watching it diligently with no reward, and now it had not just budded but full-on bloomed. Similarly, yesterday I took to the blacktop trails with both my parents and my dad pointed out that out of nowhere, the trees along the way had leaves. As I looked up at them with

There are times I’m overwhelmed by my worries, thoughts, feelings, circumstances. I feel like I’ve been doggy-paddling through the multitude of emotions, managing to keep just my head above the deep. Then I get tired of the effort and get subdued. Usually it isn’t my entire head plunged in at once, but gradual submissions. First my chin, then my nose, next I’m completely at the mercy of the waves; and they have no mercy, they have no goal but to be supreme. That’s why you can’t begin that slow submersion; you can’t give a little because it takes your all.  The problem isn’t that I’m feeling overwhelmed, the problem is that instead of giving that fight little by little to God, I give little bits of me to the fight. I give in to the struggle a little because I think I’ll feel better. I give in to each wave of new emotion instead of trusting that God is keeping me afloat. Next thing I know, I’m no longer above the waves.  Either way, I’m submitting, but I make the error