It snowed again last week, each unique flake adding its beauty to the whole. The trees stand solid, accepting the coldness stored up for spring’s bounty. We live in maple syrup country and even now the sap runs, silently dripping from the taps.
Like the snow, the bad news keeps piling up. Rampant infection, unemployment, loss. Fear builds in our souls like winter’s deep chill in our bones. Where once we hoped that this viral winter would quickly give way to spring, now we understand that it will be much longer. The temptation lurks to give up our hope, give in to despair.
But the sap is rising.
We know the pattern, have seen it played out in scripture and in our own lives: out of darkness, light; out of death, life; out of grief, joy. All of these gifts only appreciated because of what came before.
I have seen winter feed spring in my own soul, have felt the sweetness rising in the cold. I wish I had understood sooner, the feast to come.
The sap is rising. There is a current, a warmth; a Spirit who feeds this tender hope. Let it produce a sweetness for the soul and a balm for this aching world. Let it share the hope of spring.
The sap is rising like an Easter gift, and so will we. So will we.