Easter and spring's final arrival are synonymous in the prairies where I live. I've been thinking today of my earliest memories of Easter. Oddly enough, the very first ones revolve around walking and skipping around in the pasture, sometimes to fetch the cows for milking, but sometimes just find things to marvel at.
I recall finding some furry flowers and running home to fetch a tin pie plate so I could bring them to Mom. The soft, downy mauve crocuses were the very first flowers out, sometimes before all the snow patches in the pasture were melted.
They weren't very tall, maybe two inches at most, usually mauve, but sometimes a darker purple one, or even an almost white one would be in a cluster. It was such a thrill to see these first promises of many growing things.
It was an added bonus when I was the first to report in my country school, "I saw some crocuses yesterday!"
I recall that on Good Friday, our parents would go to church for communion, and I'd be left in charge of my younger brothers and sister. One year Dad had just plowed over a new patch of ground for a garden. I kept my brother Ernie busy, helping me load the sods on our wagon, and trundling them to a place in the pasture where I was going to build a sod house like we learned of in school. Only Ernie wandered off, and I persevered by myself. So I got the brunt of Dad's scolding.
Another Good Friday, I announced to the kids that we would colour some Easter eggs. I don't recall the steps I took, but at some point I got soft egg yoke all over my new hand-me-down dress from far cousins that was to be my Easter dress. It was the best one I owned, so I hurriedly took it off and washed it by hand. However, it shrank and I could never wear it again.
I've since learned the real meaning of Easter, and can tell many deeper stories of celebrations with greater spiritual impact. Today I'm thinking especially though, of the hope of eternal life that Jesus' resurrection gives us. Like the crocus, He's the first one to rise, but we will rise too, if we have trusted Him as our Saviour and Lord!
You may not have a too-long winter to drive you to a prayer like this one I wrote in 1996, when I was really impatient for change. (Mom was growing more sick back then too). Perhaps you have gone through a long dry and weary season in your emotional and spiritual life. This might just echo your sentiments as well.
Show Me a Crocus, Please!
Lord, do show me a crocus, please,
We desperately need a sign of spring.
Five months the snow's been to our knees;
The land is rested, now let it sing.
Send showers of blessing to refresh,
I need a spiritual sign of spring.
My hopes and confidence are in a mess,
Bruised, in hurt tears to You I cling.
You've said season shall follow season,
So where's a sign of Your promised spring?
I know You always have a good reason,
Perfect timing too, when YOU do anything.
I suppose as long as I can believe that,
My faith in You is my sure sign of spring.
You and a friend gave me a comforting pat;
Soon, like a bell, my life will clearly ring.
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Saskatoon, Saskatchewan, Canada