A few weeks ago, Erin said to me "Everyday here is Groundhog Day." I wasn't quite sure if she meant it in the Bill Murray sense, or the Punxsutawney Phil sense. groundhogday

In some ways, we do live in a time warp here at Palmetto Place. Wrangling so many children means we need a pretty regularized schedule, and each day sort of looks just like the next. When I overheard one resident describing her days to a new arrival recently, she said, "It's pretty easy. The house parents will wake you up, you do your chores, you get to eat breakfast, you go to school, you come home, you eat until you're not hungry anymore, you do a little more chores, you do your homework, and you hang out until it's time to sleep!"

In other ways, each day is perfectly new. We say goodbye to dear friends; we welcome new ones; we strengthen relationships and find kindred spirits in those that have been sitting beside us for quite some time. Some days I stay in the office doing research; others I eat ice cream with teenagers. On that day in January that Erin called our Groundhog Day, I had spent three hours helping to build a set of bunk beds so we could welcome two high school students that needed a place to stay.

As I worked to tighten each screw into those beds, I thought of the promise of spring. It was warm that day, the windows were open in the house and the sunshine warmed our faces. I thought of the safety and security those beds represented, and the new hope that stability might offer those teens. Our Groundhog Days are both Bill Murrays and Punxsutawney Phils. At times we may feel we are repeating our days, but we know that each day brings a little bit of spring into our lives.