It is a lazy Saturday afternoon.
It has been a good weekend so far, but a rough month. Losing people you love is tough.
I have always had to actively and deliberately overcome my hermit tendencies, even under normal circumstances. If I had my druthers, I’d probably be content to never leave my office, and certainly not my house. I think I may share some DNA with Nero Wolfe. Or Saint Kevin of Glendalough.
Fortunately, we are fitted with a safety interlock device to keep this from happening to an extreme. It is called cabin fever.
Even though I would rather be at home and cocooned in my office more than anything, I find that after a few days I feel an irresistible urge to get out and go somewhere. It doesn’t matter where. The grocery store. A coffee shop. Even just a walk around the block.
But even on those modest excursions, I do not like to go where there are lots of people. A few people are okay, but above a very small handful of people, I find myself wanting to return to my cocoon.
This past two weeks I have especially wanted to withdraw into my cave. I would have allowed a bird to build a nest upon my outstretched hand and watched as its eggs hatched and the newborn birds fledged and flew away.
But God keeps drawing me out of my cocoon.
He surrounds me with just enough people to let me know we are not designed to be alone, but not so many as to overwhelm me and make me want to withdraw again.
And today the sun is out. Birds are on the wing. Flowers are blooming. Trees are budding. The sky is that very unique shade of springtime blue that lets us know everything is okay.
Winter is over.
For a while longer, at least.