P.S.

But what if today you’re a turkey and not a chickadee? What if the shadow stuff is holding sway right now, and it doesn’t seem to make any difference if light is planning to triumph. Or if, in fact, it will. Even knowing that isn’t particularly helpful news.

When you’re a turkey, and you’re hungry, and the shopping center is closed, and some hairbrained little chickadee is buzzing around over your head nattering on about how beautiful this storm is, gratitude and hope are just two words hanging out somewhere near the middle of Webster’s Dictionary.

Crammed down there, way deep inside each of us, is a turkey who just needs to know where the next mouthful is coming from and doesn’t care anything about next week, when the sun will be shining and yesterday’s rain has washed all the dirty snow down the hill and into the reservoir and tasty green things are popping up all over the place.

That turkey just hangs out there in the backyard, without a clue. It’s not about knowing, or belief, or trust or any of those wonderfully positive possibilities. It’s about something much more solid, yet frustratingly elusive. It’s about hope β€” that teeniest hint that the light at the end of the tunnel that isn’t a freight train after all.

It’s about spring β€” against all odds β€” dragging green things and longer days in its wake. Even during the turkey-times of our lives, Something whispers “hold on” into our weary hearts.

Hang in there. Don’t give up just yet.

If profound Mystery means anything at all, it means that tomorrow will be a new day, filled with surprises and hope and possibilities never dreamed of. Leaves will appear on bare branches, flowers will bloom, squash and cucumbers will take over the garden in spite of your best efforts, eggs will hatch and turklettes will be born and will captivate your heart and the days will be warm and you will be … dare it be true? … happy again.

Aren’t we strange birds?

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