The branches on the trees are dry and bare, while on the ground below, slowly decaying, are the shriveled reminders of what once was so vibrant and alive. Winter is the only season in which we attach names such as "wonderland" and "barrenness" at different points. Yet the winter is not eternal, and around the bend is a hope about to melt all that was, and spring emerges seemingly out of nowhere. Spring, in many ways, is like the beauty of the gospel emerging through our world, and no force, man, or Hell can stop it.
Hundreds of years came and went as the Hebrew people awaited the long-awaited Savior. The days of winter seem to linger, sometimes to the point that we question if spring will ever arrive. I recall taking a long walk in the woods last winter while in Minnesota that opened my eyes to much in the way of metaphor. Minnesota, in particular, holds extremes in the way of severity in winter. In the four-degree weather, I looked upon a tree's dry and lonely branches while the frigid temperatures and snow changed the atmosphere to where every sound was deeper, louder, and more pronounced. By the current circumstance and view, it seemed completely and utterly impossible by the present logic that any goodness or life could come. The outlook was bleak and closer to branches breaking than life breaking through. Albeit the view, I knew within that there was the promise that there would be life breaking through in the form of delicate buds in a mere few weeks. An awaited promise like Christ coming gently into the world as a mere infant, a bud. Instead of succumbing to the tangible in front of my eyes, I held firm to the hope of what was to come, just as the Hebrew people did two thousand years ago. The story was far from over; it was just beginning.
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Christ came into the world like a bud on a tree, a tender and small promise of hope that one day He would grow into all that had been prophesized about Him. In the same way, we see nature reflect this as the buds blossom and bloom and take on their full and true form in the seasons of life and time. Isaiah 9:6 spoke of the bud to come forward from the branch of Jesse, "For a child will be born to us, a son will be given to us; And the government will rest on His shoulders; And His name will be called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Eternal Father, Prince of Peace." King Herod sought to cut off this bud by decreeing that all the young boys born during the age be killed, but just as sudden frosts will come seeking to suck the very life from the buds, at the end of the day, the plans of God will come forward. Job 42:2 reminds us, "I know that you can do all things; no purpose of yours can be thwarted." No force of nature or attempt of man can stop the plan of God. This proved true, and God guided Mary and Joseph to ensure the safety of the budding Jesus so that no human man could cut off God's ordained Savior.
The life of Jesus, like the summer trees, entered the season of Autumn, of ministry, and the fulfillment of the destiny of color. Taking on His Father's work at age thirty, He spent three years traveling, performing miracles, speaking, and living out all He was destined to do. In the same way, we see the summer leaves almost overnight beam their ordained colors in the full vibrancy of all they were made to be. Then comes winter frosts, and such leaves fall upon the ground leaving the branches above feeling hopeless. Consider the followers of Christ at the time of His death in this. He had promised them that He would rise again on the third day, but in the days between His death and resurrection, there must have been a fleeting feeling of hope. Just as the branches above know that there will be new life in a short time, they also have to endure the time between. The time without and all the icy moments that existed in the between. Would the Son truly rise again? Would there indeed be life again in the desperately hopeless existence of those moments in the after? Then came the spring of the world on that third day. We see the morning of the third day play out much like the first day of the gentle warmth of the sun coming upon the melting snow as those little promises of spring emerge in Luke 24:1-5, "On the first day of the week, a very early in the morning, the women came to the tomb, bringing the spices they had prepared. They found the stone rolled away from the tomb, but when they entered, they did not find the body of the Lord Jesus. While they were puzzling over this, suddenly, two men in radiant apparel stood beside them. As the women bowed their faces to the ground in terror, the two men asked them, "Why do you look for the living among the dead? 6He is not here; He has risen!" He IS Risen, indeed just as spring is sure to rise from the depths of winter.
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We, too, can hold firm to the hope and the promise of spring because He has risen. There are times in our lives when it looks desperately bleak with no hint of change to come, and then God enters the scene. Nature is God's creation, and, in many ways, it is a complete metaphor for how God works. Solomon remarked on the connections of nature and the ways of God several times in Ecclesiastes, including how there is nothing new under the sun. From season to season, we can see that we do not serve a capricious God. We instead serve a firm foundation, an ever-present hope, a promise keeper of a Father Who keeps every promise given to us. He kept His promise in the rising of Christ, and He keeps His promise to us as every winter must set so that spring will inevitably rise. Let us rejoice in the coming spring even before it arrives, for the One Who promises such a spring is worthy of our trust.
Father God,
Thank You for the promise of spring. We see the nature of the world reflect what You brought forward in the fulfillment and promise of Christ, just as You said. Help us in the places where we fall into doubt and frustration on the frigid days as we await the spring, and help us in our disbelief. Lord, we know that no matter how cold, impossible, or lonely the winter may seem, it is not the end of the story. You have the final say, and You promise spring and have the power to bring it forward. Thank You for that truth.
In Jesus' Name,
Amen
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Cally Logan is an author and US History teacher from Richmond, Virginia. Her works have been featured on "The 700 Club Interactive," “Jesus Calling Blog,” and “Coffee and Bible Time,” among several notable outlets. She served as a mentor for young women for several years and enjoys challenging women to develop deeper relationships with God and to live fearlessly and authentically. She received her B.A. Degree from Regent University. In her spare time, she enjoys spending time in nature, having genuine chats over coffee, and woodworking. Her new book, The Wallflower That Bloomed, is available everywhere now. Connect with Cally: @CallyLogan Instagram CallyLogan.com