Spring Will Come

Grandson Hugo smelling the roses. Photo copyright Eric Boyd.

Spring will come. That I trust. So when I saw my pile of gardening and backyard books, I picked them up. That will be my evening reading, along with the newspaper. When I have had enough winter, flower and outside planning books are just the thing to perk me up, give me hope and joy.

Right now my garden is rather depressing. Brown with overgrown rose bushes that need pruning. Dead weeds that need pulling. And a dirty, filthy bird bath, turned upside down (because I don't want the dogs to drink out of it) that is wanting cleaning and new, warm water. 

Since Lent begins in about a week (Ash Wednesday is March 5), the garden looks appropriate. Dingy and dark and not pretty at all. Yet I know, just like I know about the Resurrection, the garden will grow, be green and bloom when spring arrives. 

Jesus Christ died and rose from the dead for us. My garden dies and is resurrected each spring and summer, giving my family and I some beauty in this often dark world. For this I am thankful to God. For all of this.