Everything was destroyed. The ground was desolate. A wilderness. Here and there were brown sticks - a bleak reminder that something grew here once.
Any hope was long since buried under the pure white snow that brought joy at first before hardening into grey ice which made you skid and fall - leaving a legacy of broken limbs and potholes.
The cold winter culminated in endless days of grey murk. There was no vision - nothing to see, not even the person standing next to you.
Then something. A tiny tip. Green. Daring to emerge - fighting its small, defiant way through the hard, frozen soil. The most fragile of them all - snowdrop - did the snow drop you there as it fell? Or do your fields like to mimic the long gone white stuff in a defient 'ya boo!'. You are a most welcome little bloom.
Swiftly followed with a smile by the daffodil - a dancing bright yellow promising that there will be joy again. Tears may last for the night but joy comes in the morning...(Psalm 30:5)
It happens every year but once again I am amazed by the profound message of spring. Creation painting a picture of how life is...over and over again...until one day we will sink into the ground and only rise in a new place where the need to die will be no more.
John 12:24 24 Very truly I tell you, unless a kernel of wheat falls to the ground and dies, it remains only a single seed. But if it dies, it produces many seeds