It’s Sunday afternoon and I am sitting on my deck and soaking in some sunshine. I hear the birds making their various mating calls. A gray cat that I don’t recognize pads across the street, unaware that the bell around his neck is alerting all of the birds of his location. There is still a lot of brown from the winter, but a definite haze of green has made its appearance in the last few days. I’m choosing to ignore the weather reports that say we will have snow on Tuesday.
A week or two ago, I wrote about the beauty of breaking through. It is a concept that I can’t get out of my mind. The constant reminder of growth all around me might have something to do with it. And, not surprisingly, I haven’t been too good about reading the signs this year. The daffodils in the sunniest part of my garden are nodding their heads at me right now. The daffodils are blooming by Easter after all!
Isn’t this how our struggles are sometimes? We wait and we ponder and we try to guess when the breakthrough is going to come. When will the freedom come? And then, one day, when we aren’t expecting it, we see that first tiny tip of a bud. And we know that growth and freedom are near.
Philippians 1:6 Being confident of this very thing, that He which hath begun a good work in you will perform it until the day of Jesus Christ