Crocus

If you had told me a couple of weeks ago that I would see flowers again, I'm not sure I would have believed you. The snow and ice were still pretty thick and more was coming. I'm not complaining; I love winter.

But, I had forgotten. 

I forgot the colors and life that burst forth when the ice and snow give a little space. I also had forgotten that I bought a bunch of crocus bulbs I never planted, but my beloved did as a surprise. 

And there they are - SURPRISE!

They are stunningly beautiful and bold. May I live my life like a crocus, willing to risk being bold and beautiful in a world still chilled and gray. May I risk loving even when all looks dead and bare.

That seems to me some of what the message of Easter is, or at least the message of my favorite Easter hymn (and Kirt's least favorite).

Now the Green Blade Rises. 

It's not the triumph of trumpets like other Easter hymns; it still has some of the minor key of Lent. I feel like I can live in the subtle hope of this song in a way the trumpets never quite capture my heart.

The final verse is my absolute favorite:

When our hearts are wintry, grieving, or in pain,

your touch can call us back to life again,

fields of our hearts that dead and bare have been;

love is come again like wheat arising green.