One little patch of yellow flowers blooms amidst the barren trees. It’s the first sign of spring even in the dead of winter. It’s the first bright color after days of endless gray and rain.
I recently heard it said when we reach the end of our selves, when we feel as though we may as well be dead, new life appears.
Hope.
Remember Abraham and Sarah? Their bodies old and past childbearing…
Remember the woman caught in the act of adultery? Standing in the midst of a crowd ready to stone her…
Remember Lazarus? Dead for three days…
Remember Joseph? In prison for a crime he didn’t commit…
Remember the Israelites? Slaves to the Egyptians…
Remember Peter? Wallowing in his guilt, returning to his dead-end fishing job…
Until…
God intervened, and made all things new.
New life. New circumstances. New beginnings.
There’s light in the darkness; grace for the messes; freedom from the chains; and life for the dead.
