I got it again this year.  The email about how pine trees produce new growth that looks tiny crosses. Only this year I didn’t doubt, or scoff, or mock because last year I took the time to look and see, time to watch and pray. Sure enough, certain kinds of pine trees go through a growth spurt that looks like tiny crosses right before Easter. Every year. Right before Easter. Regardless of when Easter comes.

A lot like Bradford Pears.  One year when Easter came in early March, and experts said it wouldn’t be that early again for 200 years, the Bradford Pears still burst into a glorious white display. Why?  Because all creation groans. Because “all heaven and nature sings the wonders of His love.” Because the budding beauty of Spring has less to do with the calendar and more to do with the earth receiving Her King.

Remember the star of Bethlehem?  It is just evidences that the Eternal Love story God foretold and retold since ancient days is for our benefit.

And I don’t know about you, but on Good Friday, such a showy display of beauty feels out of place.  More like flowers at a funeral. No matter how pretty and sweet, they don’t cover the scent of death.

But on Easter morning, when you are crumpled at the empty tomb, distraught from His absence, and you hear Him call your name, all this changes. “Woman why are you weeping?”  It is in this breathtaking moment,  you turn and see Him alive, and well, and Risen. In this moment, the splash of colors and sweetness on the wind is like a Lover’s bouquet in a nail scarred hand. And the words on His lips are the best proposal you have ever heard.

“Never will I leave you or forsake you.”