Sometimes I wonder...

Sometimes I look at the daffodils blooming cheerfully across the street,

and wonder if you have to be a special kind of person to grow bulbs.

Sometimes I ignore our mound of laundry,

and wonder if nudists aren't onto something after all.

Sometimes I hear my children's questions --sometimes their pure laughter--

and wonder if I'm really qualified for this thing called parenthood.

Sometimes I remember a sweet friend suffering...

dying... not wanting to tell her family goodbye...

way. too. early.

and wonder if I can really trust God at all.

And sometimes He stops me and tilts my chin so that I look

-- really look --

at the cross and the empty tomb,

and I wonder how I could do anything else.