Spring has arrived. Overnight – or over a couple of nights – the grass turned green and daffodils and narcissi popped out in flowerbeds. Spring is so late this year that everything is rushing to catch up. The hyacinths in the back yard are out, and I can smell their scent when I open the window. My crocuses finally appeared for a day or two, and the maple trees are covered with tiny red flowers. Daylily leaves are coming up, and the bulbs on the north side of my house are getting ready to bloom – they don’t get much sun, and are later than most. Thunder woke me last night, and the rain made everything glisten in this morning’s sunlight.
This is my favorite time of year. It’s a time of renewed life, and renewed hope. I’m not sure exactly what is promised in all this rebirth – maybe eternal renewal, maybe the endurance of creation, maybe the continuation of life in spite of all we do, maybe the eternal persistence of God.
This Sunday is Palm Sunday, and the next is Easter. We’ll celebrate the Resurrection, and talk about eternal life. But what do we know? It’s all mystery. What it all means is God’s business, not mine. Right now, my business is to rejoice in the renewal all around me, the visible, concrete beauty that promises and reassures. If the trees bloom and the daffodils come up and the grass turns green, then I know that God’s still at work in the world, creating and re-creating life, designing beauty, and infusing everything with light and love.