Hope: The Embodiment of Spring

Our long, gray winter is over. Signs of spring are everywhere you look. Goslings, ducklings, and killdeer chicks are hatching along the river. The trees are greening and flowering. New life is sprouting all around. The shy, timid fawn's wobbly steps behind its mother make me smile. I slow down on the country road to watch calves frolicking in the fields. Love is in the air. In the animal world, at least. The air is sweetened by tulips, daffodils, and the heady purple odor of lilacs. Sunshine and gentle breezes make a jacket redundant.

Photo by S. Williams

With the arrival of spring, the idea of hope comes to my mind. To me, hope is the embodiment of spring. New life, new growth, new chances. It's the start of a new cycle. Everything is fresh and clean. We trim and prune away the old to make room for the new. The weather is warmer, and we can spend more time outside. Dining outdoors, riding your bike, or sitting around the fire are now viable options.

Photo by S. Williams

There is something innately powerful about the proper use of a word. Hope means, and I paraphrase from Websters, to expect with confidence or to want something to happen or be true. Abound means to be present in large numbers or in great quantity, to be prevalent, well supplied, or filled. You might have seasons in your life where hope might be in short supply, but, like the seasons, it is temporary.

Romans 15:13 says, "Now may the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing, that you may abound in hope by the power of the Holy Spirit." This weekend, my wish is that you "abound in hope." Whatever season that you're in right now, know that it is temporary and will eventually change.

Photo by S. Williams

Please join me on May 4th as my book, Love, Emily is launched. If you have a chance to read it, may you come away from the experience inspired by the characters that, even though they weren't in a season of spring in their lives, they still abounded in hope.