This afternoon, I notice my winterberry bush budding in the backyard.
Those blooms hold particular significance this Easter season because I've beheld their cycle this whole year. I see death and resurrection, and I suddenly remember the importance of death.
For months, this bush seemed more acquainted with death than life. The brittle and barren branches!
This bush endured the assault of ice storms. Those branches seemed hopeless, trapped, and unchanging.
Things were being put to death in her.
Now, these new buds burst forth.
I remember my winterberry bush when I think about God's work in my life. I go through seasons when things have to die in me. The soul in winter feels like death, but with every burial, there's a resurrection. What will Jesus bring forth in us? We await that bloom even when we cannot perceive the secret work happening deep within our souls.
Journal: What has to die in me this Easter? What will God bring forth?