Waking up to an unexpected March snow, a couple days after the official start of Spring, that’s one of the many blessings of living in the shadow of the Canadian Rockies! The sun begins to bring glistening rays to the backyard as eager birds clamour to find their spots at the prepared feeders, ever grateful for the seeds within their reach. This snow covers over the strewn seeds below the trees, the ones shaken from the fervor of driven fluttering bodies, jostling to position themselves to find nourishment within the sanctuary of the trees. Straining, seeking, yearning for the promise of refreshment.
Whew! I think I feel like those birds amidst this sudden spring snow! Yearning for the promise of refreshment! Straining to keep a firm grip on the hope of surviving. Perhaps just for this day, despite the chaotic challenges it may bring. Perhaps for the ongoing struggle in my healing process.
The first thought that comes to mind, “This snow’s late, but Easter comes early this year. I hope the new fallen snow doesn’t dampen my spring hope!”
I smile as I sip my coffee and recall an early March Easter that we spent in Pennsylvania one year. The boys were young and excited about spending time with Gammie and Pop-Pop for a week. We had left a blooming landscape in North Carolina to go north to one still experiencing the unexpected cold snaps of early spring. We arrived the day before Easter, just in time to see the town park volunteers setting up for the annual Easter egg hunt. My parents’ home, situated directly across from the park, gave us a bird’s eye view of the preparations. The colored eggs haphazardly strewn about, looked pretty on the grassy areas.
Then snow fell during the night and covered the eggs leaving only their tips exposed. When we looked toward the park, dots of color peaked through a whiteness that appeared to have been carefully shaken out over them and around them. Like quilted blankets with their stuffing popping open, as if the thread-worn work had burst from its hidden designs, unexpected but purposefully created.
The room the boys slept in had a window facing the park. Early that morning Chris came running to get our attention, grabbing at our pajama sleeves to pull us so that we could see through the front window. He excitedly proclaimed, “The Easter Bunny brought me snow!! “
No disappointment. No concern that Easter wouldn’t happen. No dismay that he couldn’t see everything that Easter promised. No reluctance to begin the day.
Instead, the exuberance of a child who trusts. The delight of one eager to receive what is placed before him. Snow! Snow that covered up what he knew was already there. Maybe he would need to dig a bit to find what lay beneath it, but he knew what he would be seeking.
This snow reminds me of that surprising Easter snow. A winter landscape but barely enough. Or perhaps just enough, so that I can still see the promise of spring below it.
Snow comes late, but Easter comes early!
Refreshment still remains. Thankfully I don’t need to jostle for position to receive mine. I only need to brush away my doubts, the hope peeks out below the anxiety that sometimes creates a shadow over my prayers.
Whew! Not completely covered. They still can be found.
Snow comes late, Easter comes early.
Yes, I still feel the love of Christ moving with me and for me. He’s bringing hope and healing to me and my family in ways I may not understand through His powerful strengthening love.
I don’t know exactly what you need today, I don’t even know what I need as this spring day begins.
Thankfully our ever-present Lord does. He’s already refilled the source of our refreshment. He’s already prepared for us, with a love that surrounds us and surprises us in ways that we truly need. Hallelujah! Snow’s late, but Easter comes early!