One good thing about shoveling snow is the surprise of uncovering flowers along the way. It exposes hope . . .
And the amazing thing about nature is how God gives the ability to recreate. I count on it when I look down-deep beneath the drifts and know there is life in the cold earth just waiting to rise again. Really.
And you may have heard, God is a master at bringing life back into what has expired.
It’s easy to feel as gray as the day when bitter winds and sleet assaults the sweet growth of spring’s first appearance, especially when we’re hoping for better things. And right about now, spring is five days and fifteen hours away. Can’t wait. But on the sixth day, we’ll probably still be waiting for spring to look like spring, because what I’m seeing at the moment is flowers in the snow.
It can be the same in life when personal situations sometimes crowds out the green of hopefulness. But remember, the first day of spring marks the vernal equinox (that would have been a great middle name, Mom). A balance of daylight in the darkness. So, we cling to the balance – it brings hope.
The word hope is the title of the Easter story. It means a favorable and confident expectation. It has to do with the unseen.
The beauty is and has always been in the act of rising again . . .
Looking outside my office window, no – can’t see spring at the moment, but I’m confident it’s hidden in the naked branch, nestled dormant until the time comes for the blossom to make an appearance.
Spring is a season of hope – a reminder that the winter in our hearts won’t last forever. There is a promise of new beginning. So may we choose hope, not finger-crossing hope, but the kind that remains steadfast to believe with expectation – to see further than the eye.
Because of Jesus and His resurrection, hope can never not come . .
Christ in you, the hope of glory. Colossians 1:27