I didn’t eagerly anticipate spring this year. Mom was gone and I just wanted the world to stay as I was-hunkered down, cold, quiet, numb. But spring persisted.
Fast forward a week or two. It was a gorgeous day, so I went for a walk. God is so sweet to me. I found myself rejoicing in the blue sky, green grass, and budding flowers. Joy snuck in. I felt a thrill of hope.
Time will not stand still for any of us. I’m grateful, because I would’ve chosen to remain tightly contained in my grief.
Today as I walked I was-again-reveling in the signs of renewal and rebirth all around me AND inside me. God is surely working in the midst of my grief. It hurts. I miss mom, but the intensity of it has dulled just a bit. Getting out of bed is easier. Dealing with life is easier. A thrill of hope.
I know that line is from a Christmas classic, but it stayed with me all day. I think it’s rather fitting for Easter. I know this weary soul is rejoicing.
“A thrill of hope, the weary world rejoices,
For yonder breaks a new and glorious morn…
Christ is the Lord! O praise His Name forever,
His power and glory evermore proclaim.”
A thrill of hope...that is what I wish all of you this Easter. He is risen; He is risen, indeed.