It's no joke that my favorite season is spring. In my mind, spring has it all. Heavenly weather, clean, crisp air, the grass begins to get it's green on, and my personal favorite - the trees start to bloom.
There really is nothing quite like taking a walk and getting snowed on by Dogwood petals, or to see a child squeal and giggle as she runs to the Magnolia tree to gather a few twigs of the breathy pink blossoms for "Mommy to put in a vase and keep forever." I'm quite partial to the Dogwood. Not so much for the scent, but for the white blossoms. White is such a symbolic color. It stands for purity, cleanliness, something fresh, something new. So many phrases run through my mind whenever I spot a tree in full powdery white glory.
"I am the Resurrection and the Life," rustles through the blossoms as I work in the garden. "He who overcomes will be dressed in white."
A few days ago, I was struggling with the weight of my sin. "Get a grip, you moron! You were born to 'fight the good fight of faith and lay hold of eternal life' and you cast off the sword . . . again." While I continued to beat myself up, I heard a soft, gentle voice.
Look out the window.
"But I don't see anything and . . . oh, my Lord."
There, just three houses down, was a Dogwood tree, its white blossoms basking in the sunlight.
Though your sins be as scarlet, they shall be white as snow.
That was enough to calm the raging voice inside of me that said "Give up, you'll never work through this. It's no use fighting now." Any fears of having at long last wasted the last drop of grace that has been shown to me were dispelled at His voice.
The Dogwood bears within itself a secret of immeasurable worth. Now when I see it, I gasp not only for its pure beauty. It stands as a reminder of who my Savior is, and who I am and am becoming according to the power of His Spirit that works within me. There is a Savior who has redeemed me. There is hope of salvation. There is life.
Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation; old things have passed away; behold, all things have become new.
Photo courtesy of Of All Loveliness
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