We live in the Willamette Valley in Oregon (Wil-lam-it; Or-e-gun). We know when Spring has arrived, our daffodils start coming up. Spring seems to offer new starts. Winter is gone, and some beautiful days are ahead. It’s my wife’s favorite season (and so is Christmas!). Personally, I like Fall. I love the cool breeze and the beautiful leaves on the trees. For me, Spring is a close second.
St. Valentine’s Day may be in February, but the old saying goes:
“In the Spring a young man's fancy lightly turns to thoughts of love.” – Alfred, Lloyd Tennyson1
Love, is indeed, in the air.
I imagine you have read the Velveteen Rabbit by Margery Williams. 2 It chronicles the story of a stuffed rabbit's desire to become real through the love of his owner:
"What is REAL?" asked the Rabbit one day, when they were lying side by side near the nursery fender before Nana came to tidy the room. "Does it mean having things that buzz inside you and a stick-out handle?"
"Real isn't how you are made," said the Skin Horse. "It's a thing that happens to you. When a child loves you for a long, long time, not just to play with, but REALLY loves you, then you become Real."
"Does it hurt?" asked the Rabbit.
"Sometimes," said the Skin Horse, for he was always truthful. "When you are Real you don't mind being hurt."
"Does it happen all at once, like being wound up," he asked, "or bit by bit?"
"It doesn't happen all at once," said the Skin Horse. "You become. It takes a long time. That's why it doesn't happen often to people who break easily or have sharp edges, or who have to be carefully kept. Generally, by the time you are Real, most of your hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out and you get loose in the joints and very shabby. But these things don't matter at all, because once you are Real you can't be ugly, except to people who don't understand."
There are some evil things going on in the world right now, but it’s good to know that love can conquer any of that.
There are various stories about Easter. Pictures come to mind like eggs (from bunnies?), candy, Easter baskets, etc. When I was a boy growing up in Indiana, my Mom would dress us up in our “Sunday finest.” We would pose for photos in front of our house flower bed. Little suits, ties, and Fedora hats. We looked so well behaved, but much of the time we would be underfoot so Mom would yell, “You kids go out and play in the street!” I know that sounds odd, but we lived on a dead-end street with little traffic. It was a safe place to kick bounce balls and throw footballs. We also had plenty of yard space. No one had fences then and one yard continued into another.
Spring. Though winters could be harsh, and we would receive lake effect snow off of Lake Michigan, the hope of Spring brought brighter days ahead.
Spring is a wonderful time in that God reminds us that life may seem gone, but only dormant. On that Resurrection Sunday we call Easter, the dormancy of death could not keep Jesus buried in a tomb. He broke out of there so he could always play with us in the street. And with that, demonstrated no evil can defeat His good, giving us hope that would never end. He is real, and his love is eternal, it never gets “loved-off.”
