Monday, April 22, 2019 – Prairie

We’re almost a third of the way through this year. I’ve slogged my way through most of it, lifting one heavy, mud-caked foot after the other, in a fugue-like state. I can’t say why.

This is life. It’s not always mountain top and it’s not always valley, sometimes it’s mile after mile of flat nothing-to-see prairie. You’d think I’d be comfortable here, for some reason I’m not.

It’s a lie to say that there’s nothing to see on the prairie. On the contrary: some of the greatest gifts are there. I challenge myself to be still, lean in, and listen—the very things I write about in my new book, the things I know I need.

Right now, the April gray isn’t helping anything at all. Early this morning I saw something magical in the red eastern sky that sparked delight. It didn’t linger, and soon the gray overtook it, but it was there for a time nonetheless.

And so, Monday of the last full week of the gray month and an opportunity to do something different, to begin again. Onward.


I’m a writer, reader, and creative. I thought by now I’d have things figured out, but I keep coming up with more questions. I think that’s okay. I’m here most mornings pondering ordinary things and the thin places where faith intersects.
  1. Thanks for putting my feelings down in a blog post. I’m slogging through the grayness of this last part of April too! So tired of the imposing darkness of the skies.

    1. When I look back, it seems that it’s not unusual for April to be gray. Maybe it seems harder to bear because we’re so near to full-on spring and sunshine. Hope we both get a good measure of that soon, Sherrey.

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