There is nothing quite like the feeling of waking up to a clear sky, knowing that the worst is over, and the best is yet to come. Spring is often associated with the themes of promise and hope. I recently visited my dear friend, Reneyda, in North Port, Florida, and basked in the beauty and serenity of her Garden of Eden backyard. It looked so flawless and effortless to me because I wasn't there just six months ago when Hurricane Ian ravaged the area. She explained that the new growth and creative design followed on the heels of destruction and dormancy. As we chatted and enjoyed a delectable Mexican lunch with coffee on the enclosed patio, I did not fully recognize the miracle that I was witnessing. After lovely trees toppled and this majestic garden was stripped of its former glory, the empty space became a canvas for my friend to reimagine her happy place! And it has never looked more alive!
The past three years have been a season of relentless storms that sometimes numbed the senses. Perhaps you may be going through the motions of mere existence and checking boxes, having lost the zest for life that once defined you. Signs of life indicate potential, but we can only experience the fullness of THE DIVINE LIFE when Christ is the center. This anchor holds when the waves are crashing down; this foundation keeps us from drifting off course. Recent shootings, world chaos and bank failures have exacerbated a sense of collective anxiety. So, is there hope? When I wrote the book, Storm Chasers, the pandemic had just begun, and I penned this chorus to remind myself to reframe the ominous concept of the storm as an adventure. "The waves are just a dancefloor. You are dancing in the deep. He holds you up. You will not fall. This is the last dance. Give it your all!"
Minimalism blogs remind us to be "present" and "live in the moment." The month of April and the spring season are synonymous with deep cleaning and new birth. But this is also the time of year when hibernating animals emerge from a state that can easily be mistaken for death. The wood frog, in particular, is known for a form of hibernation that is not possible for most creatures. In fact, their blood turns into ice crystals during the winter and there is no heartbeat or respiration. They spend the entire winter completely frozen in a state of suspended animation. Their internal chemistry of glucose flushes every cell in their tiny bodies, protecting them from certain death despite external circumstances. Likewise, Floridians are familiar with iguanas that freeze when temperatures drop. Although "fully alive" in terms of potential to be restored, they are experiencing a vulnerable moment.
Perhaps you can relate. The wood frog and the iguana must wait patiently for the right season for life to fully manifest. Psalm 62:1 (GNT) reminds us: I wait patiently for God to save me; I depend on him alone. He alone protects and saves me; he is my defender, and I shall never be defeated. Many of us have been running on fumes and relying on life support, merely trying to survive the storms of the past three years. Easter is all about the hope that Christ's resurrection brings. Jesus experienced death so that we could be fully alive. We can emerge from darkness with a renewed sense of purpose because of the cross. The limitless love of God called Jesus out of the tomb. God became man so that man could reach God. The cocoon of the moment is nothing but a womb for your destiny to be formed. Clear skies and a heartbeat followed the storms of Good Friday. You are fully alive because HE IS ALIVE!
John 11:25 (KJV)
Jesus said unto her, I am the resurrection, and the life: he that believeth in me, though he were dead, yet shall he live.
Hi Wendy, I so look forward to reading your vlogs! Thank you for reminding me of your first book, Storm Chasers, that I have read several times and gifted. In New York, the birds, and nature in general, are shaking off the icicles and the cold Winter. Like them if we wait patiently, we will certainly see God's transformations in our lives.