40 Ways My Labyrinth is Like My Life--#13

13. It always looks so much messier than the picture in my head!

I've sat and looked at this one for awhile, trying to decide if I should say anything more at all. It's so true, so self-evident, so almost inevitable! Take right now, for instance. As I write this, spring is well underway. Weather has been weirder than usual this year, which is saying something, especially around here. The last bitter skirmishes between winter and spring are always weird. March is still in the coming-in-like-a-lion-lamb-lion-lamb-elephant stage, yet the daffodils are almost over, some roses are entirely leafed out and others are considering skipping this year entirely, tulips and irises are several inches high, maples already bloomed and are getting busy with seeds, and Berea's favorite Giant Magnolia (I wonder if anyone has reported that thing to Arbor Day?) burst into bloom yesterday. In the past week we've had all four seasons, so they're all confused, poor things.

So my labyrinth (in stark contrast with whatever beautiful, peaceful image I've eagerly planted and cultivated in your head), has grass that needed mowing a week or more ago, (Mowing! In February!) weeds up to a foot high in the edges and borders, leafy berry vines, budding grape vines, no sign of action at all in the fruit trees, which I worried over so much when it was 60s all the way through January and February (good goin', little guys! . . . um . . . you are still alive, right?!?) and almost completely invisible paths. Oh yeah, and one of the antique roses on the trellis, Ballerina, is entirely leafed, and the other, Zephyrine Drouhin, has about six leaves scattered here and there and is begging for pruning. In fact, none of the dormant pruning ever got done despite all my good intentions. The beds underneath the black raspberries and blueberries, which I was determined to complete last fall . . . well . . . yeah.

Meanwhile, my life . . . well, on the outside:

The house is a mess!

This is number 13 of the labyrinth posts and going up this morning even though today is the 14th day of Lent, so that tonight I can post 14 and be caught up again, briefly . . .

Day after tomorrow I leave for an 8-day service trip in Jamaica, and I haven't even thought about what I'm taking, let alone started packing!

And on the inside:

I'm feeling overwhelmed and scattered, with about six different To Do lists jostling in my head.

I'm anxious about several deadline-crunching writing tasks.

My devotions are feeling somewhat mechanical.

Emotions are . . . well, come to think of it, they're a lot like the weather these last few weeks!

I wonder why I keep and treasure and nurture that picture of the perfect labyrinth and the perfect life, anyway? Is it a help, or a hindrance?