Apr 14, 2014

Making Things New


      I crinkle my nose as I try to suppress another sneeze. Because with me one just leads to another. I'm one of those weirdos who can never just sneeze once, and I'd really like a break. Maybe then I could drink another sip of my morning tea. 
       As I gaze out the window into my porch, I laugh. Though I filled the bird feeder just last night, the birds have already unfilled it. Eating their favorites, and tossing the others to the brick without a second look. I assume the nasty seeds are the equivalent "bird broccoli" or some other less-than-appetizing food.
      Sitting midst the forgotten seeds are pots from last year's spring. Husband and I had skipped off to Home Depot for the afternoon, and come home with a collection of marvelous plants! I'd curated such a lovely display: some pink, some yellow. Some tall and sparse, some short and dense. They were going to grow forever, together, to create a garden paradise for our little family of two. Excited, we discarded the plastic pots for our hand painted, well-intentioned Terracotta planters. They were so beautiful. 
        Then winter came.
     The sun came less, and the yard was tossed into a world of constant clouds & shade. The branches on my lovely plants began to slowly brown, and lose their shape. Over time my plants bowed at the waist, giving in to gravity. And by October, I had lost all hope for my dear green babes. They were gone. 
     And with my blooms and leaves, winter had cast shade over my heart as well. It's the kind of thing you don't notice until it's too late. Too late to buy my heart heat lamps, or mulch, or simply bring it inside. It had been shrunken hardened, and numbed. 
      Winter had blown my life into chaos. My friends had left me feeling like my silly bird feeder, picked over and left alone. I'd had friends cut me out, hang me dry, use me, and deny any warmth we'd ever shared. I felt alone and lifeless. My heart has always beat for the other hearts surrounding mine, and for the first time in my life I was scared to put myself out there. 
      So with my plants, I became a wilted version of my former self. I laid in quiet for months, hidden within my browned leaves and bowing stem. 
      Until today, when I looked up a second time from my morning tea. There I found a tiny sprinkle of green among the dead and departed. There was green! One of my lovely plants had survived, and despite sleeping the entire winter away, was ready to grow freely again. Knowing it's source, it reached upwards: tiny and desperate. Very much alive.
      Spring is such a beautiful season, in all its blooms and frills. (and yes, even sneezes) I love being able to celebrate Easter, and the miracle of resurrection in this season. For, not only do I worship a God who raised his own dead Son back to life for me, but I have a loving father who can't wait to breath a spring beginning into mine again too. 
      Here's to hoping you're reaching upwards, and feeling the Son this season.

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