Early blooms push bravely up seeking the rays of the sun. There is the sense of a pregnant pause across the land; a waiting that is expectant in its quietness. It is as if the land is on the cusp of something new and wonderful, an awakening of sorts.
Dust swirls in chaotic dance as the wind gently blows across the brittleness of last year’s grass. Trees seem to spread their branches even lower trying to catch the wind. A flash of red breast announces the return of the robin; a herald of springs return.
There is a whisper carried on the breeze; the voice of God calling forth that which has lain dormant through the long dark day of winter. Nature bends its ear to hear the voice of Him who calls.
Hope springs anew as seasons of life come and go and come again. New life will spring forth; in His time and in its season.
God whispers His promise in the wind; “rain will come, it will fall on the dry and thirsty land.” A gentle mist begins to fall gently onto the waiting tender buds as hungrily they drink in of its life giving flow.
God whispers and the land will bloom again.