This moment. This moment. This moment. I want to stop and really be aware of this cloudy Monday morning.
The clouds are supposed to break up later today and the rest of the week is sunshine all the way and temps in the high 70's.
A week from today the pastel eggs, adorable baskets, stuffed bunnies and chicks, and chocolate confections covered in pink, yellow and baby blue will all make their way to the discount shelves.
Daffodils and hyacinths and forsythia will have had their heyday and be just glorious memories. The menu for Easter dinner will no longer occupy my thoughts, lists, and time. Newspaper ads will switch to beach wear and those flower strewn dresses and pretty shoes will lose their appeal.
Holy week happenings - from passion plays, to egg hunts, to Good Friday events to Sunrise services to cantatas will all be on the already turned pages of calendars in churches around the world. In only seven days.
So - This moment when winter pulls it's chilly fingers away and tiny buds prepare to burst open. This moment I don't want to miss in my rush for warmth and sun --- And Easter.
So, I'm taking some deep breaths and taking another look around. Only in truly seeing the cloudy Monday mornings for everything God made them, can I truly see the magnificent sun-drenched Sundays.