I’m hoping my story has changed each morning that I awake.
It is time for something new to arise, the hope grows with each breath that I take.
The time of waiting must be done.
I can sense the seed producing her roots.
The new season has surely come.
The bud begins to poke her head above the decay from seasons before.
I know there is a new beginning.
Time to reap the harvest from the seed sown.
I look at the here and now and softly chant to myself…
it is not finished, I will not stay here, new life has begun.
At that moment, she blooms.
Isaiah 35: 1-2 The desert and the parched land will be glad;
the wilderness will rejoice and blossom.
Like the crocus, it will burst into bloom;
it will rejoice greatly and shout for joy.
The glory of Lebanon will be given to it,
the splendor of Carmel and Sharon;
they will see the glory of the Lord,
the splendor of our God.