Almost, but not quite

I have had this basil on the windowsill in my kitchen since the last frost of the year. I stuck it there just to get it out of the way, and it seemed to thrive. I've enjoyed having the smell of summer every time I wash dishes all winter long. Today, I noticed that it doesn't seem very happy any more. Some of the leaves are turning yellow, some are brown and falling off, and well, my basil is just all wilty. I've been telling her, "hey, hang on! Spring is almost here!! I'll plant you outside!! Just wait a couple more weeks!! You're almost there." And, yet, I don't think the ole' girl is believing me.

Isn't that just like us?

In my former life, I used to see it happen to pregnant women. They'd make it to 38 or 39 weeks pregnant, and they would just be done. Done. Done. Done. Tired of being pregnant. Over it. With only a couple of weeks left.

Or in labor. A woman would make it to 8 or 9 centimenters, and then, she'd cry out, "I can't do this any more." But, we all knew that that very cry was a sign things were happening, and that things were about to change.

I can remember many a night, around 4 am. We'd be so cold, so tired, and we'd think, morning is never coming. And, yet, it was coming. Right around the corner.

There's an old bluegrass song by the Rev. Ralph Stanley that says, "the darkest hour is just before dawn." Isn't that true in so many parts of our life?

The week you think, "I can't take getting up with this baby one more night" is the week before he sleeps through. The day that you think, "I can't do this one more time" is almost always very near the end of doing it. So, we continue to run the race.

'Cause spring is coming!