In the fall I began making a list of lies I believe—things that keep me from accepting grace, mercy, truth. It was really freeing, and probably something I should continue doing as I recognize these things. Somehow, acknowledging a false belief and calling myself out on it seems to be a significant step toward healing.
But today I’m voluntarily telling myself another lie, a white lie if you will. It’s gray outside and the temperature is supposed to drop as the day goes on. The calendar insists that we’re still in February (and the early part, at that). But in my mind? It’s spring, and nothing you can tell me is going to change that. I’m ready for blue skies, mild days, daffodils and tulips, renewal. And if wearing my summer perfume in February is a little weird, well, you’ll get over it. Today I choose to be fiercely optimistic.