November in northern Michigan is cold and bleak. The trees have lost their leaves. Brown is the predominant color. It’s wet, cloudy and dreary.
As you walk in the woods there’s no wind, no chirps or buzzes. It’s foggy, quiet and still. The woods are ready for the coming winter. The plants and animals have prepared for the onslaught of cold and snow. Everything looks dead, as if there’s no hope for spring.
There are buds on some trees. These buds carry hope. They carry the promise of spring. That no matter how long, dark and snowy the winter gets, they will unfurl when the weather turns warmer once again. The buds remind you there is hope for spring.
Even when virus numbers are surging, there’s hope for a vaccine.
Even when death draws near, there’s hope for eternal life.
Even when death steals your loved ones, there’s hope to see them again.
Even during the longest, toughest winter around, there’s hope for spring.
Give thanks for hope.
Please share this with someone you know!