I held the rough, dirty, round bulb in my hand before I sank it into the garden and I marveled at its potential. Who would think that in that mass there would be something special, something of delight and beauty yet if you were to slice it open it would reveal nothing but a cluster of fiber. Marveling at it in my hand I spoke to it asking: 'How is it that something so rough and plain can turn into something so beautiful and perfumed, a glorious flower. How does that happen?' Then I realised my questioning is not to the bulb but to God. In our rapidly changing world in this time we can look and question many things, for example how can the blackened charred and burnt trees ever hold their beauty again yet there are so many signs of new growth with the eucalyptus leaves showing their beauty in the red and green new fresh tips merging up the trunks. Life comes from death. Resurrections occur and beauty rises.
May the Lord of Peace himself give you peace at all times in all ways.
Anne, servant of the Lord
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| A mystery with an Easter insight. |
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