Spring joy

There is something about spring that makes me want to dig in the dirt. I'm not an amazing gardner and my yard is usually the talk of the neighbors, unfortunately not the kind of talk you want to be. But turning over the cool earth on a warm day, dirt under my nails and staining my hands, that somehow always makes me feel better no matter how blue I may feel. I even like the smell of the dirt when it's first turned. It reminds me that with God there is also an opportunity for a new beginning, a fresh start, new mercies. A few minutes of pushing the brown stuff around and feeling the cool dry clumps break between my fingers brings a sense of joy that the new season is really here. I can now plant those seeds and plants with the warning on the package "after danger of all frost" or "after all danger of frost", something like that. The air feels fresh, the sun warm against the skin, and the breeze enough to enjoy the work without much sweat. There is also something about watching the various bulbs and other spring flowers and vegetables lifting their their brand new bodies through the dirt and stretching with all that is in them heavenward. There is a rush of joy, a new song of praise, a child-like exhuberance that fills me when I take up the spade or shovel and head out to the yard for the first time that year. It becomes a dance of worship, not of nature, but of Him. It seems as though the One who offers the day, the dirt, the breeze, the plants to me is breathing a sweet sigh as I kneel down and my heart leaps toward Him in gratitude. I am grateful for this moment, for these plants, this garden, yes. I am even more grateful for the sacrifice He made on my behalf, that these simple pleasures might show me His hand in a glimpse and the smiling faces of the johnny-jump-ups covered with the royal purple remind me that the price was paid by the King. Kneeling in my garden, playing in the dirt I find myself kneeling before the Creator's throne and the glimmer of His glory in the work of His hand set before me often is overwhelming. I have found myself in those moments of worshipful joy with silent tears as His breath becomes real to me and the delight of His presence is touchable. I think with the few minutes I left in the afternoon, I'm going to go out to the throne room to catch a glimpse. Want to join me?