They call to me from my windows, daring me to bear witness to their Maker. Spectators of the everyday places below, perched confidently on their sky-stretched bleachers. Seemingly overnight they appear—nature’s answer to the Christmas tree.
Once barren limbs in waiting, now decorated garlands of brilliance—strands of tiny bulbs in shades of green that only spring could author. Swaddled in the glory, they’re sacredly woven—tightly, yet softly—all at once. Ever so slowly they arise, obedient to their high calling. Glory Whisperers, they are.
Envious of the glory, I give in to their playful taunting. Bounding down the porch steps, I sling my faithful sidekick across my shoulder, eager to see its lens interpret this nativity of spring.
Brittle, dormant grass of summer-past rumples beneath my heels as I circle the yard—my senses alive to the splendor. Every Gladys Kravitz hollers “Abner!” from behind peeled curtains. They’re curious of the neighbor, in the taupe house, snapping pictures of the empty limbs. So many empty limbs. The Gladyses don’t see the glory. I pay them no mind…the glory captivates me, I can’t un-see it.
We label spring with this extraordinary charge of being nature’s awakening, and aptly so, but—the awakening has an awakening. Before it awakens, it must become. Each click of the camera leaves me all the more enchanted as I wander the waiting area of nature’s delivery room. Un-birthed leaves line limb after dry limb…tightly wound pockets of promise, daily unfolding—becoming.
As my toes linger in a landscape that drips with the mystery of becomingness, my mind wanders to another landscape—another daily unfolding that is alive within each of us.
We drag kids out of bed and manage schedules. We wash dishes and prepare supper. We walk through Target trying to will our unruly feet away from So. Many. Clearance. Aisles. All the while, this careful unfolding is sprouting on the scenery within.
Pockets of promise—tightly, yet softly woven—evidenced through eye-shaped windows. Each day gently giving way to less of the becoming and more of the awakening—in shades of beauty that only the Rainbow Keeper could author. We rise up, obedient to our high calling. Glory Whisperers, we are.
~ Blessed to link up this week with #IntentionalTuesday , #RaRaLinkup , Titus 2sday , #TestimonyTuesday , #TellHisStory , Thought-Provoking Thursday , #DanceWithJesus , Faith Filled Friday , Faith ‘n Friends Blog Hop and Weekend Whispers ~