Poppies

I watch every morning for the poppies to bloom. Each year I promise that I will take an easel outside and paint them. This year is different, I am going to paint them. For some crazy reason they are challenging me to see if I can make time for this inner need. Tom and I have our usual spring overwhelment. We wonder what we are doing caring for this big piece of property. How did we get here? We love it, in fact it is our piece of heaven, but we are watching our strength and enthusiasm wane. We crawl in bed so tired, knowing what waits the next morning. Tom is loosing weight. He is brown and handsome. I wish we could snap our fingers and find ourselves in a cozy home with two horses and a small yard. We did build this life and we must figure it out.
* "Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? shall tribulation, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or peril, or sword?. . . Nay, in all things we are more than conquerors through him that loved us." Romans 8: 35,37