Enough reminiscing. Cailyn knows her stuff about the old groundhog. She whipped through the events summary of the day in nothing flat. “If he sees his shadow, it means there will be … six … more … weeks … of … win … ter.” Oh, no. We can’t have that. Especially not in Galveston. We have had enough winter here to last us for at least six more years. “And if he doesn’t see his shadow, it means that it … is … almost … almost … (Yes, she really did hold out the syllables. Made for quite the dramatic pronouncement. But then, she is good at being dramatic) … almost … Spring.” And there you have it. Assignment completed. Well, almost. Now she had to draw a picture, and I was supposed to help her. How do I go about doing that? Like any other self-respecting DadDad without an appropriate book handy, I googled “groundhog.” And there were a host of photos and artist’s conceptions to choose from. We looked through the array of pictures. We laughed a lot at the silly little creatures. She teared up when one was especially “so cute.” And finally she was ready to tackle her own version of the furry critter. We grabbed a pencil, plopped down on the floor, and opened up her notebook. And she was off. I thought at first she was going to draw it like a snowman, with a few separate circles joined together. But her trained eye was able to transform what started out as an oddly misshaped oval into a pretty fair representation of the groundhogs we had been spying on. Eyes, nose, mouth in a two-toothed grin. Two long legs and two much shorter ones. Little tail added on at the last minute. And for yet another touch of realism, little tiny hairs coming out of the body. Of course she also had to add a flower, "because groundhogs always have flowers around them," and a necklace. Gotta have the best-dressed groundhog, too. There were only two animals it could possibly be. A groundhog, of course. Or possibly a beaver. Those two big teeth kind of stood out. DadDad was appropriately proud, of course. Now of that Punxsutawney Phil will just cooperate and be bleary-eyed enough to miss his shadow, we can get on with Spring. I’m ready to do some fishing.
Hosea 6:3 says, “Let us acknowledge the Lord; let us press on to acknowledge him. As surely as the sun rises, he will appear; he will come to us like the winter rains, like the spring rains that water the earth.”
Father, I am ready for some Spring, but if we need a while longer of your Winter, well, I’m OK with that, too. I trust you. Amen.