If memory serves me correctly, these are daffodils that have broken through the mulch in recent days. But the last time we enjoyed the advent of spring while living is this house was 2011, so I could be wrong. I will know for certain soon enough.
Haiti is in bloom year round - which is wonderful day by day - but I have missed the great metamorphosis of spring. There is something truly profound about newborn beauty suddenly and completely redecorating the barren, dead landscape of a long, cold winter.
Sure, the sight of budding flowers inspires joy as they are harbingers of warmer weather and longer days.
But much more than joy, they inspire Hope. Ultimate Hope.
If we have eyes to see, the daffodils, crocuses and tulips all point in their small way to the promise of resurrection we have in Christ.
I don't mean to sound morbid, but winter is real and so is death: Some day, my body will be planted into the dark ground like a seemingly lifeless daffodil bulb to await the appointed time.
And then - when the time is right ... stand back and see what God can make of me!
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