We see the truth of this everywhere we look.
For me, it’s with my newly-budding plants.
Since I planted my amarylis bulb at the start of March (a present to myself from my visit to Amsterdam), I feel a renewed sense of hope and optimism each time I enter my living room (where it currently resides).
Every day it’s grown taller.
Right now, as I watch it, I see a shoot daring to open up.
The expectation of the finished product makes me smile.
But the whole process has been and continues to be awe-inspiring – seeing its journey from onion-looking bulb, closed tightly like a fist, to a plant with multiple stems and leaves and new flowers beginning to open.
Yesterday it caused me to wonder, ‘how can all of this beauty and growth come out of something so small? Where did all the extra stuff fit?!’
Then I thought about myself and every human on the planet.
We were a teeny tiny embryo. Every single one of us. And now…
Even the dead-looking white lily plant beside it (yes, that’s what it used to be last year!), isn’t actually dead!
Upon closer inspection today, I see little baby shoots sprouting. Small, but a fresh green that wasn’t there yesterday. Or at least, I didn’t notice these shoots yesterday.
So, this gives me hope.
And the fact it’s Easter weekend.
And so, even despite the chaos, darkness and death all around us, which is heartbreaking and earth-shattering for those in particular who are directly affected by the sudden loss of loved ones, it’s crazy to think we can still have hope and optimism that new life will continue to sprout in the right season, if we look for it.