I love the burst of green that seems to change the landscape overnight—a brilliance of color shooing away winter’s gray.

I love blossoming cherry trees, magnolias, and dogwoods and the sight of golden forsythia swaying in the breeze.

I love to hear birds chirping and watch them gathering bits of grass and twigs for nests.

I love colorful crocuses and hyacinths, daffodils and tulips flaunting petals of pink and purple, yellow and red.

I love shedding bulky winterwear in exchange for lightweight wraps.

I love days that stretch longer and stretches in the seventh inning of a ballgame.

I love seeing neighbors work in their yards while their children ride bikes and shoot baskets.

I love sunlight shining from blue skies dotted with cotton candy clouds.

I love fresh strawberries, sweet and juicy, that hold the promise of becoming sweeter and juicier.

I love spring rains that produce splashing puddles, flowing streams, and full reservoirs.

I love spring because it’s a season of promise. It reminds me that winter is not as harsh or fruitless as it appears because it’s always followed by a season of hope, whether in nature or in my personal life.

See! The winter is past; the rains are over and gone.
Flowers appear on the earth; the season of singing has come.
Song of Solomon 2:11-12

Finding Hope, 65 Meditations for a Broken Heart