Although our Midwest weather seems to be unable to decide if it wants one more go-around with winter or if it’s ready to launch into spring, I want to believe spring really is on the way. I want to believe that any more bouts of snow will be mild enough to at least let the tops of the greening blades of grass peek through. And truthfully, it can go ahead and stop {the snow, I mean} anytime now.

A few days ago, during my leisurely morning scroll through Twitter, I noticed one of the local news stations encouraging people to tweet photos of flowers peeking through the ground at their homes around the state. As they rolled in, the station retweeted them, and suddenly I found myself staring at yard after yard dotted with tiny sprouts of tulip and daffodil promise.

No blooms yet, of course, but a couple of inches of thick, healthy green shoots stood straight and proud from the otherwise brown earth.

There’s something hope-filled about seeing that first sign of spring, isn’t there? Of realizing that the winter, no matter how long or short it may have felt, is about to depart and warmth, sunshine, and fresh flowery beauty is on its way?

hope

I scrolled and stared, and suddenly felt the urge to see if such shoots of spring pushed through my own backyard. It wasn’t enough that a dozen yards around central Indiana reported a sign of spring. I wanted my own sign of spring. In my own yard.

I grabbed my camera and ran for the back door. Peeking out, I noticed the rocky landscaping littered in reddish buds tossed from the tree in the ridiculous windstorm the night before. Buds! A sign of spring! I glanced up, and though it may have looked like all the buds fell to the ground, the tree still waved hundreds more, promising tiny green leaves would soon appear.

As I made my way to the far corner of the backyard, where the tulips and daffodils grow, I found them. Clumps of green already several inches above the dirt. The beginning of spring. MY beginning of spring. Not a picture of someone else’s spring in a Twitter feed, but my own hope of spring pushing through my own backyard.

We need that, don’t we? We can see signs of hope all around us, and that can be good and delightful in its way, but we need our own sign of hope, ultimately. We need to know OUR hope is on its way.

You won’t know until you look. And if you look, you’ll find. Don’t hide inside relying on the hope reported by others. Get out there and examine YOUR life and look for signs of hope shooting up in otherwise barren places. It may be tiny, but you’ll find it. Hope springs even now.


bekah headshotBekah Shaffer is a wife, writer, blogger, and lover of life and creativity. God has redeemed and restored the life that felt broken and useless, and she loves to share pieces of her story so others can find hope in what God has done. She’s married to Ryan, her answer to many years of prayers, and she loves to scrapbook, make memories, cook, write, and point others toward the Lord!
Connect with Bekah online:
Blog: www.bekahsbits.blogspot.com
Instagram: @Shafferland2012
Twitter: @BekahsBits