My garden is a riot of color! My roses are blooming and blossoming in celebration of the Spring that has sprung! How fitting for the spiritual practice in Eastertide–to notice and to celebrate new life that is appearing everywhere. I was treated to a trip up the coast this past weekend, and even there in the midst of sand and cypress trees, flowers were coming out: lupine on the freeways, California poppies by the road and beach blossoms whose names I did not know proliferated along wood sidewalks and rocky shores. I kept hearing the words of sacred text, “I am doing a new thing.”
The flowering of nature is just an opening act for the new things I have witnessed in the conversations and encounters I have had in these first two weeks of Eastertide. Possibly because I have turned my attention away from clearing out spaces to attending to what is new and possible, my senses are heightened to the way the resurrection power is being demonstrated in ordinary and precious lives. I listened with amazement as one by one people have been willing to chronicle a blossoming, sometimes without their awareness–a new protocol, a shift in perspective, a healing practice, the lift of a cloud, the clear shining through a new lens. All of these call for celebrations. Someone who has been missing is here with us–hooray! Someone who has been ill is finally well–thanks be to God! Someone who been tied up in anger at the “way things are” is freed to act on a solution to the very source of anger–let’s rejoice!
I am continuing my practice of looking for and rejoicing in the newness of life this Eastertide–bursting buds and leaping lambs, breakthroughs and miracles–I want to celebrate in trust the things not yet seen, that are growing and becoming new in the dark, believing that even death itself is not the final word. All of it belongs to God, all is in God, and all will, in the end, be well. So I sing my song of blooming today, “Light and Darkness, Light and Darkness, Light and Darkness,” my Easter hymn of praise!