Snowdrops of Hope

DSC_4511 (4)

image (c) Wendy Coy

Snowdrops of hope

 “And if the Spirit of him who raised Jesus from the dead is living in you, he who raised Christ from the dead will also give life to your mortal bodies because of his Spirit who lives in you.” Rom 8:11, NIV

It’s April, people. April. The month of sunshine, soft rain and flowers. Apparently my snow piles ignored the calendar.

Eight inches of dirty-white despair remains by the front walkway, a leftover reminder from our three-foot drifts. So much for crocuses.

I glance at the other side of the walk, bracing myself for another pile, but I jump as I see the first harbinger of spring. A single, small snowdrop valiantly emerges from the one bare spot of ground which the plow mistook for driveway. Amazed, I kneel down, reassuring the tender flower that the sun will bring more warmth soon.

Two hours later I check again, too impatient to leave this treasure alone, and seven more snowdrops have emerged. SEVEN! What, are they growing at time lapse speed? That’s one every eighteen minutes, give or take a few seconds. At that rate, I could watch these blossoms sprout!

I bend over further and peer at the ground, willing it to produce another dozen or two blooms. It doesn’t, of course, but I realize something else has sprouted: hope. After three months of dreary, snowy, cloudy days, it takes only a few hours of sunshine and one white flower to remind my heart that resurrection happens.

I’m amazed that it takes only one small snowdrop, eagerly emerging in a warm two-hour sneak-peek of spring, to awaken my winter-drugged heart. One snowdrop becomes seven, and my heart is shedding its parka. A few more snowdrops and it will be ready to go swimming!

Isn’t the Holy Spirit like that? He takes a wee bit of hope and multiplies it, growing strength to soar and run. If evil can multiply deadness like yeast leavens dough (or an entire batch of dough), surely hope can multiply life. The surprise is that it happens so quickly. One minute I’m depressed and despairing; the next I’m bouncing across the driveway yelling “snowdrops, I have snowdrops” and planning outings in the garden

The Holy Spirit blows and warms my heart and hope multiplies. It doesn’t take much. Tell me, what will it take to sprout new life in your heart this spring?

wendy blog signature