“Our Lord has written the promise of resurrection, not in books alone, but in every leaf in springtime.” -Martin Luther
There has always been a place in my heart for springtime … for singing birds and burgeoning buds and subtle colors of the world reemerging. Winter and the brown, bleak world of bitter cold brings me to the place in February that when I see that first hint of green, I rejoice. The world comes alive again. In the monochrome flatness of winter, life seems impossible. And yet it comes.
Every year at Easter, I experience that same wash of feeling — that wonder of knowing that despite all the bleakness of our world, love comes in and makes all things new. That despite me and the countless offenses within and lived out, that the God who loves us all knows all the darkness within me and still freely gives new life. A gift, unspeakably great.
This Easter, the rebirth seems impossible as every year. And yet Love comes and makes life and light. A promise lived out in every leaf in springtime …
