The Bradford Pears are blooming. The trees, that is.
It happened overnight. Literally.
Invisible buds on Friday. Delicate white blossoms on Saturday.
In every yard. All. At. Once.
As if God Himself came low to the ground and spoke into the anxious roots, breathed on the tiny buds a single word. “Now.”
Maybe He did.
And still it catches me off guard every year.
The waning days of winter have wound us tight. Anticipation building like soldiers circling walls waiting for the trumpets to blow. Like wanderers in the wilderness trudging old ground dreaming of milk and honey. Like dry bones in a valley coveting a breath of life.
Like a coil compressed, waiting for… Well, a spring.
From root to tip. From sap to bark. Our cells tingle with the coming of new life. Even when the evidence of it remains hidden.
Listen closely. For God is coming near.
Your “Now” is on its way.
Linking this reflection of Small Wonder with my friend and fellow blogger, Kelly Chripczuk, who hosts a Community of blogging Beauty Hunters at her site. Because our Big God shows himself in the most amazing small ways. #smallwonder