I awoke again this morning to a white, frozen world--snow and ice and the kind of cold that hurts. The trees have long been bare. The birds at our feeder and the deer silhouetted in white are the only signs of life and movement and color.
It is hard to imagine that this frozen world will thaw. The trees will leaf out, and the flock of daffodil bulbs that a friend planted as a gift will blossom and dance yellow in the breeze. The birds will sing, and the sun will warm. In the greening of spring, it will be hard to imagine winter.
What if you and I are greening, too? What if all the frozen parts of us are slowly thawing? What will we look like when all the selfishness and fear and insecurity that mar our beauty have melted away? Who will we be in the greening of spring? It is fun to imagine.
“If we let Him—for we can prevent Him, if we choose—He will make the feeblest and filthiest of us into . . . a dazzling, radiant, immortal creature, pulsating all through with such energy and joy and wisdom and love as we cannot now imagine. . . .” C. S. Lewis
“Therefore, we do not lose heart. Though outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are constantly being made new (given a whole new kind of strength and vigor; changed into a whole new kind of life) day by day.” 2 Corinthians 4:16