Resurrection's Busting Out All Over

My friend Janet knows a lot about birds. She told me to watch for the spring morning the birds songs start. That day every one will be smiling but not know why... will feel lighter, happier and spring will have come. Lying in bed this morning, I heard many bird songs accompanied by a turkey gobble and I laughed out loud. Turkey gobbles sound like the bird looks. I began to wonder how many other signs of spring resurrection I was missing in the rush to finish Lent.
The bloodroot is blooming. This weekend I taught Matthew, one of my grandsons, how to use the orange juice in the flower stem to paint his face. He was speckled faced the whole time he was here. Beside the bloodroot, spring beauties are blooming... tiny pink and white striped flowers. There are violets everywhere with their dark purple and lavender and white faces smelling sweet in the sunshine. I picked a bouquet for my kitchen table. Bright yellow dots of sunshine, dandelions, cover the ground in front of the old chicken house and remind me that the sun is always shining when they bloom.
I heard my first Bob White song this weekend. We have a quail family that come every year to raise a new brood on the hillside in front of our house. Uncle Harold can whistle just like a quail. One of my sweet memories is watching and listening as he called to the Bob Whites, talking to them, calling them up to the porch where we could see them.
Jeannie saw five fawns in our berry patch last week. The mothers were hidden but close by. And Vince saw an eight point buck in that same place. The deer are coming out to graze on the tender grass. The three new calves run down the hill full steam ahead with their tails straight up in the air, then play catch with the dogs. The cows and Ferdinand the bull are shedding their winter coats and look like moulting chickens, patches of sleek summer coat peeping out from wooly winter wear. The old groundhog that lives beside the drive to my mother’s house was sitting out in the sun yesterday surveying his small kingdom. He will soon be glossy and fat again.
These are the easy to see signs of resurrection. It is more difficult to find the new life in my soul. Where are my dandelion blooms and spring beauties and bloodroot and violets in my spirit? What and who are budding resurrection for me this spring?
Babies... everywhere there are babies and pregnant women. Seeing and holding babies always makes my soul sing. Happy mother faces, happy baby faces, happy new life just beginning that reminds me I am a part of the wheel of life. These babies are the new me... I who once was a baby with a happy face. There is still a baby in me, new life with so much to learn and know and experience.
Music... For the first time in years I am singing in a choir again. Music has always been a direct connection to the sacred for me. When I sing, my heart leaps up towards God and I am removed from all that tethers me to the mundane and messy. The art of singing with a group, hearing all the voices, learning the music, feeling the emotions the composer and lyricist created in the piece, singing my heart out, singing my soul, singing my resurrection gives me new life.
Writing... Mrs. Adams, my high school Literature teacher, would approve of my writing. I can hear her soft, southern drawl, "P-e-g-g-y, you are a cap-ab-le wri-ter with style." In my sixties, writing has become an important part of my soul’s new life. I struggle sometimes to find words for what I am experiencing. And other times, the words fly from my heart to the page. I weep, I laugh, I remember, I learn, I read, I grow, I bloom in a way that is new for me. Resurrection...
The last verse in Mark’s gospel is my road map for resurrection life this spring. "And they (the followers) went forth, and preached everywhere, the Lord working with them, and confirming the word with signs following." I will be looking for the "signs following" this resurrection season. Wonder what is waiting out there for me? And for you?