Confession: Tulips are my favorite flower, at least in the spring.
I love their shape and I wish my life were all yellow but it’s not. There has to be that d-rn red one in there, the one that shouts at you when you want to look at the rest. Sickness. Depression. Failure. My sister diagnosed with cancer. My children with questions I cannot answer, problems I cannot solve. City children I know by name and love and hold but cannot rescue. Our house in the process of a long and messy renovation. Old sorrows. Fresh pain. Ink on my walls. And the last egg from my refrigerator, the one I need to make soft pretzels, broken on the floor.
One thing I’m learning is that it’s okay to feel the red one, to cry. Let this cup pass from me.
The way I want to live is to tilt each cup to the sky, to drink it all, to let Him fill me with light.