As if by magic–but it’s God’s magic, no one else’s–we have all kinds of little wildflowers springing up around our building. Our tulips are coming up, too; and I’ll have to take care to put a cage over them to keep the squirrels from biting off the buds, a bad habit of theirs.
We have these little purple things, bright purple, suddenly visible–where were they yesterday? And crocuses, daffodils, and these tiny white flowers that are everywhere, and Patty’s Lenten roses… they’re all over the place.
And it makes me think, yes, God renews His creation every spring. He is not remote from us, He is not an absentee landlord: He is right here, with us, all the time. That’s what all these flowers are telling us. They are hymns of color, hymns of life.
For which we give thanks in Jesus’ name, Amen.
We thank You, O Lord for your goodness to us. You enjoy giving us joy.
Same thing happening here. Each day as I see a new kind of flower when feeding the Blue Jays their peanuts I go inside and tell Linda about it.