When Spring Comes Again

It was never supposed to be about the buildings.

The heroes on the platform.

The music.

The voices.

The instruments.

The emotion.

The pride, about all of it.

We grew that.  We cultivated it, and admired it. 

Then a frost came, and let's be honest about some things...

Just as we were told, it came upon all of us.

...And when we needed most to share and feed each other out of the overflow of our hearts,

   instead we became cannibals and fed upon one-another.

...The loudest voices were ones that called us towards un-love...towards separation.

...They said, "See! This is the end of times and we must prepare by drawing lines."

...They forgot that we were told He would pour out His Spirit like never before, and instead of the focus

being on the frost, our focus would be on the harvest.

This is not the end, but it could be.

It could be the end to some things that needed to pass.

It's time for our selfishness to die. 

It's time for our fears to be released.

Time for our comfort-addictive meetings to be slain.

Our hope to be refined.

Our love for Him and for all in his image to be made honest.

Beloved Everyone.

             I wonder, can we now be sanctified...in love...the way He showed us.

We're not as certain of the spring as we used to be.

But it will come, it's been promised.

Yet, maybe it will look different.

Things that used to be more prominent may never bud again.

Things that used to be ground-cover may be the better crop, and provide the nourishment we need.

Our heroes may not stand as tall.

Maybe they shouldn't.

(Humility makes us all seem more or less the same height.)

Our reach may not seem as high, 

             but maybe it can be broader, because there are more hands extended.

I'm ready.

I'm trusting.

I'm believing.

He can heal.

He can plant something new in us,

      and he can grow it all the way to fruit...if we let it happen.