Writer D

There are few things I look forward to more than spring, and ultimately summer. Not just the seasons, but very specific, treasured things about them. I long for the feeling of warm sunshine on my skin.  If I die from skin cancer, it will be well worth it. I even relish the feeling of getting into an oven hot car. I find immense comfort in the blanket of humidity that covers the lush, green Midwest.

I love the new lively shadows dancing on my floor, now that the leaves have returned. I tell my children that the leaves are waving at them, that they’re excited to be back.

I love the smell of warm dirt. I love to feel it in my hands, and welcome it back after it’s long, frozen sleep.

I love dandelions. I feel like they’re an incredible gift from God. Little sprinkles of sunshine, like God was having fun splatter painting.  And it’s so nice that there’s one flower all children can freely pick, even in a perfect strangers’ yard.

Okay, so really I love all flowers. I feel so loved by God through them, the smells and sight and feel of them.  And berries! Oh, nature’s candy.

I love the night sounds out my window, including thunderstorms, after the long, silent winter.

I could go on and on, but before my time is up I must acknowledge that much of the glory of these precious things is in the anticipation of them—in the missing. Just as joy is intertwined with suffering, so summer must be intertwined with winter, for me.

Writer A

Of all the flowers, lilacs. If all the world’s flowers were taken away, I’d feel the saddest about losing lilacs. I don’t remember if there were lilacs in my childhood, but the way they look and smell is nostalgic to me. There’s lots of lilacs in my little Wisconsin city, Eau Claire—when they’re blooming (they’re blooming now), you can’t walk far without smelling them. And lilacs are not just flowers, they’re trees. Mountainous hedgerows, as tall as a house. Hearty, helpful, bountiful, beautiful.

Long days. I love that it feels like there is more time in the summer, because there is more light. It feels like tons of extra time. Twice as much time! It feels like things can be done after the kids’ bedtime!

The farmers market, especially in high summer, when the pavilion smells overwhelmingly of basil and mint. The pavilion looks over the river and a band plays during the farmers market every Saturday morning of summer.

My sister’s family coming to visit. My beloved, faraway sister, in my house, sharing my things, eating what I eat, enjoying what I enjoy. Doing my dishes and stuff. (Ha ha kidding)

Puuuuuuuuumpkins. Storefronts lined with hundreds of pumpkins. The way pumpkins sound. The delight I have that it occurred to God to create such a thing as pumpkins. My parents visiting in the fall, insisting that we get pumpkins for our front porch.

Fall leaves, obviously.

Christmas lights.

Winter at the end of February. The days begin to get longer; the temperatures are not as cold. In the mornings and evenings the snow is blue and the tree branches are black against the sky. It’s breathtakingly beautiful. Looking forward to winter at the end of February gets me through dark, frigid January.

Our annual spring trip to Arizona to see my family. And to see the Brewers play spring training games. The heat, the smell of orange blossoms. My kids playing with their cousins. That special cousin friendship.

Church. I look forward to crying during hymns now and then. By far church is the most likely place I’ll cry.

My husband’s voice. His voice is kind, every day.

Looking at my daughter’s eyes. My little bouncy fairy girl with beautiful eyes.

The weight of my son as he sits on my lap. My pink-cheeked, moody, adorable troll of a three-year-old.

Coffee.

Writer B

What do I always look forward to? WHAT do I always look forward to?? What do I ALWAYS look forward to??? This is a weighty question, and I have tried and tried to come up with a weighty answer, but I keep coming back to some very small and simple realities.

I always look forward to my morning cup of coffee. I know, I know, caffeine is a drug and I’m an addict. I’m not advocating for caffeine addiction. The pure and simple fact of the matter is that I look forward to my boring, black cup of joe every single day. I don’t take it for granted. The smell of brewing coffee and the sound of brewing coffee…I don’t care that there are neural pathways in my brain that need that or they will choose to assault me with a raging headache instead. In the absence of the raging headache, I feel genuine happiness while that cup of coffee brews. And you know what? I always get excited in the early afternoon when I suddenly realize I can have ANOTHER cup of coffee. It’s this sweet little gift every single day. I read Gone With the Wind a few years back, and during the incredibly difficult post-Civil War era, Scarlett O’Hara and her ragtag team of cohorts (including but not limited to the very frail and very angelic Melanie and Melanie’s husband Ashley who Scarlett repeatedly tried to seduce away from Melanie) had to drink some kind of disgusting coffee substitute brewed from corn mash or something weird like that, and practically every day I am thankful that I can drink coffee brewed from richly roasted Colombian beans and not drought-blighted corn mash. (Maybe Melanie would have been stronger and Ashley would have been less inconstant and Scarlett would have been A LITTLE NICER if they’d all had good coffee to drink.)

I also always look forward to that moment in the evening (like THIS VERY MOMENT) when I realize that all of my children are actually asleep and I can have a glass of wine and finally type up my writing challenge…or read a book….or watch television…or stare contentedly into space…That is also a gift every single time it happens.

I always look forward to picking my boys up from school. Honestly. I like my kids. I miss them when they’re at school. My two little guys miss their older two brothers too, so picking them up from school means that I get to see them AND it means that they get to see them, and there is little in this world that blesses this mama’s heart like watching her sons love each other.

There are big things that I always look forward to, of course. It’s true that I always look forward to visiting my sister in Wisconsin. (Hiiiiiiiiii Emily!!) I always look forward to Christmas. I always look forward to monthly brunches at my parents’ house. But these fun things are less frequent bookends to the day-in, day-out business of life. I think that if there weren’t things I always looked forward to in the normal stuff, then the big stuff wouldn’t satisfy quite so well. You know? If I spent months and months ONLY looking forward to visiting Wisconsin, then that visit would have too much weight and it would either disappoint (don’t worry Em, this has NEVER happened), or it would be too sad when it was over (this sometimes [always?] DOES happen….). But if there are little everyday moments that I can continue to look forward to every single time, then it’s like I’m practicing appreciation, which makes those big moments matter all the more.

Writer C

There are a lot of things I look forward to: the changing of seasons (especially summer to fall), the anticipation of visitors (or being the visitor). I look forward to family trips, or just going out with the girls. But the thing I look forward to most consistently (especially since becoming a mama) are the quiet moments at the end of the day. Every evening after I read to, pray with, and tuck the kids into bed, it seems I’m faced with an impossible decision: to go to sleep, or to consciously enjoy some rest. I usually go for the latter, spending my time painting, watching a show with my husband, or catching up on chores that got lost somewhere during the busy of the day.

And after I go to sleep, the next moment I look forward to (if that’s possible during sleep) is when I wake up before the rest of the family to begin my day with the hush of the morning.

So, I guess, right now, the theme of my anticipation is, “quiet.” Even when it comes to literal seasons changing from the wild of summer camp to the immediate stillness of autumn, my heart really yearns for a sense of calm, and steadfastness.

This was our prompt:

What do you always look forward to? – 15 minute challenge