Blossoms

I love when spring comes and fills the trees with colors of white, light pink, purple, yellow and fuschia. I look out my office window at home and see blossoms everywhere. It’s as if everything on the earth has awakened and new life has come after months of grays and browns had swallowed up nature’s vibrancy.  

I can’t help but think of the ways that the very same thing has been happening in the lives of so many around us. I’ve watched as friends whom we love and care about deeply have come through challenging times and been transformed through their winter season, having now entered into their spring. Winter been harsher for some, while it’s been milder for others. One friend called this morning just to say that after all she’s walked through, she’s never been happier in her life or closer to Jesus. Other sweet friends, whose life looked very different just two years ago, are moving across the nation to live in a place where they’ll be fulfilling dreams that have only been dreams…until now. They’re each blossoming in their own ways and there’s such beauty in it.

What’s always fascinated me is that the blossoms I love so much can’t burst forth unless death has come first.  I’m particularly mindful of that right now since it’s Holy Week – the week we remember the greatest sacrifice ever made and the Resurrection that overcame Death once and for all. There’s an oft-told legend of the Dogwood tree in which it’s been said that it used to be a very large tree and its wood was chosen for use as the cross Christ carried. It was so sorrowed by its use that Christ took pity on its suffering and said that it would no longer grow large enough for its wood to be used for such a purpose. Its blossoms would be in the shape of a cross with brown and red marks for the rust of the nails and blood of Jesus and in the center of the blossom, there would sit a crown of thorns. Whether this legend holds any truth really doesn’t matter. The Dogwood outside my window still draws my heart close to my Savior through its blossoms.  

The blossoms I see all around me give me hope and fill my heart with anticipation. I know that no matter how long the winter may be, spring will come and new life will burst forth. It’s impossible for the season of death and desolation to last forever. Even in those dreary months when darkness seems pervasive and never-ending, joy can be found. I think of the fun of sledding, being curled up by the fire, playing games with our family, snuggling together and watching movies, and celebrating Christmas, which is my favorite time of the year even though it falls during the winter season. Even during those months that can seem so bleak, we can find joy, wonder and love.

Our winter seasons don’t generally coincide with nature, but each time a season changes on earth, I’m mindful that the seasons of my life will change, too. Even though the winter months of our lives may seem to be lasting longer than they should with Punxsutawney Phil declaring that we’re in store for another 6 weeks of it, the seasons of our lives will change. We’ll blossom and grow. There will be new life and those around us may even marvel at the beauty of it.