This winter has been a long one, a bitterly cold one – colder than I remember us having in quite some time. And the past twelve months have been long and bitter months. Colder and more bitter than many of us have ever known. Full of confusion. Full of fear. Full of sadness. It’s been a difficult winter, a difficult year. But there is good news. Spring is coming.

I’ve never watched for it quite so eagerly as I have this year. I’m keeping my eye out for one sign in particular, my favorite sign of the season. I’m watching for the redbud blooms. They’ll let me know; they’ll be the first to announce. Spring is coming.

The redbud isn’t really much of a tree during summer or winter. When they’re not blooming, they’re hardly noticeable at all. Just a small, often twisted thing growing amongst taller and straighter and sturdier trees. But when they bloom…oh when they bloom. Then they are a thing of beauty and wonder. They’re one of the most brilliant heralds of the much anticipated message. Spring is coming.

There are a few places on my drive to work that I know to pay special attention to as the time gets near. Places where the redbuds are waiting in their drab little disguise. Places where I know their amazing halos of purple blooms, nestled in among all the other bare, wintery branches, will just light up the landscape. Announcing one of the most comforting promises in the world. Spring is coming.

There’s nothing like a really cold, dark winter to make me appreciate how amazing such a tiny thing can be. To show how miraculous the coming season truly is. The trees will bud, and the fresh new green leaves will grow. The flowers will spring up and bloom. The days will lengthen and the darkness will recede. Where there was cold, there will be soft, comforting warmth. Where there was gloom, there will be brilliant sunshine. And where there was death. Where there was death, there will be vibrant life once more. Spring is coming.

The sun will rise. The Son has risen. Spring is coming.