What is it about little girls and flowers? We love them. We wear them. We give and receive them. I sometimes wonder if it's that longing for paradise lost ages ago in God's garden. Maybe these blooms stir in us an ancestral memory of perfect beauty... fellowship unbroken. And so, we are drawn to their vulnerable loveliness. We wonder as they bud, and bloom, then fade and fall...and we relate to their glory torn. I see my daughters, crowning one another with the softest of spring and I think of Him crowned with thorns, for them, for me. Those ugly, painful thorns...because of me. And He then crowns us with all of this Love?
Spring is Grace.