This post is dedicated to my mom and dad.
Last Thursday we arrived in my hometown, and I drove to my parents’ house after dinner. I found my mom holding a grandfather’s beard tree in her hand. “Oh, I was just going to plant this. I’ll be done in a minute.” I wandered around the front yard with the dogs until she was done. She pointed out all that was blooming and all that had come back from last spring. Whenever I’ve been away during the start of spring, I’m always a little stunned at how much she’s helped to grow. I walked past the zucchini and onions and asparagus. She came and sat down by the fish pond in the garden room, and I sat down next to her. We fed the five fish and talked about how I worried the two had frozen this winter when really they were busy having babies. Mom pointed to the spot on the pond where tadpoles would hatch soon.
We laughed at the dogs digging at nothing next to us until it was time to go inside. We walked to the door and mom spotted a mama bird in her nest. I marveled at how calm she was when we were standing so close to her, taking care of her new little ones. Later that night as I was leaving, I stopped by the door when I heard them squeaking in the nest.
This time of year is good for us creatures. Just when we thought we couldn’t wait any longer, we see new life and brightness. We sigh in relief as our hearts lighten. Winter had worn us until we were dull empty shells, or it had suddenly chilled us to the bone and broken us. But now, the deadness of winter appears so temporary, and our eyes open wide to living Hope. This Hope seeps into our broken empty places—dark crevices made by winter and bad news, and the Resurrected One lifts up our heads again. He came that we might have life to the fullest.