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I don’t want to forget to tell them. 

Soon, all of creation will sing with the glory of God’s creativity and joy! And I don’t want to forget to tell them that those bulbs that are pushing up from the newly thawed ground and the buds that are stretching forth on the limbs of our trees and the breeze that smells of warmth and soil are all completely covered with the hand prints of God.

Because sometimes, it is easy to forget.

In a world where we more often Google than pray, it is easy for us stand awash in scientific explanation and assume that the spring that is surging forth is nothing more than an explainable event that we can understand and dismiss. But there is more here to see.  And if we stand still and squint our eyes, perhaps it will come into view.

Creation still points to the Creator.

Trees that stand dormant and cold have been created to warm and regrow. It is nothing short of miraculous. For months, they have appeared dead--lifeless entirely. But, with no help from the human race, they will awaken around us and sprout new leaves and shade our upcoming picnics. My tulips and daffodils faded away nearly a year ago and yet somehow, utterly invisible, they are now alive and moving earth in their preparation to greet this new season. It is nothing short of miraculous. I do nothing to remind them that my bare table and brown garden miss their bright faces, yet they come. Miraculous, and a reminder.

Death does not have the final word.

Because it is not easy to remember that dead things live. The impossibility of it surrounds us in our daily lives. Dead is dead. Death is surrounded by sadness and hopelessness, by missing and morbidity. We know this full well. And all of that is true, until we remember. Our only hope lies in the fact that what is dead can rise again. Our only Hope lies in the One who taught us this by sitting up and walking on … even after.  Even after death.

Christ rose victorious!

So, I don’t want to forget to tell them. When we are standing in the yard with sun on our faces and the breeze in our hair, marveling at the buds and blooms, I want to remember to pull my children close and remind them of life and help them to see that God has a hand in our hope. I want my bursting bulbs to remind me of light flowing forth from the tomb. And I want to help my family to see it too.

New life is our inheritance.

We are blessed to share in Christ's victory. 1 Peter 1:3-4 says, "Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ! According to his great mercy, he has caused us to be born again to a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead, to an inheritance that is imperishable, undefiled, and unfading, kept in heaven for you." The blessing of new life shows God's grace and gives us a renewed hope!

A season of rebirth is a gift to us. It holds more than blossoms and buds. It holds wonder and truth and hope. Standing with our toes in softened earth can bring us face to face with what resurrection looks like.  Dead is not dead. Risen is real.

 

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