The forsynthia bush blooms early, a thousand yellow faces opening to Spring. It is the first to bloom. The body of the bush must taste spring in its roots, the plumping earthworms and shivers of rain, and it calls out to its children to spread their petals. Perhaps at the end of the world, when the blood has turned to rust in the ground and the trees and bushes are barren because the earth is too full of death to taste like Spring, that is when the Lord will call forth his children to bloom. What a Spring that will be! Will it feel terrible to bloom like this yellow forsynthia before the full burst of Sunshine? Will the earth be cold and aching with gusts of ice wind? Will our fingers freeze as we lift our hands to worship in the streets? Nevertheless, we will be beautiful. And we will boldly hail Spring. May the people look at our worship and know trumpets are coming, just as I look at this yellow bush and am glad for Spring.

But isn't that our vocation today? To bloom with full force of color - scarlet, plum, and gold - open-hearted as opened blossomed, blazing with humility, streaming with service, and worshipping with the adoration of God? Let those who see us say, "Here cometh the Lord."

Brothers and sisters in Christ, hand in hand and blooming until we are aflame in flowers. All that remains for Spring is the Son.


  1. Semi reminds me of the email we had about the Sun and Spring and wrinkly skin. :) I adore you! Beautiful post!

  2. Mmm, yes :). I adore you too! Thank you!