“That is one good thing about this world…there are always sure to be more springs.” —L.M. Montgomery, Anne of Avonlea
Jesus was walking along a road, a large crowd following, when he was stopped by the leader of a nearby synagogue. His daughter was very ill, he explained. Could Jesus please come at once and heal her?
The Lord agreed, but no sooner had they set off than a messenger arrived with terrible news: “Your daughter has died,” he said. “Don’t trouble the teacher any longer.”
“Don’t be afraid,” said Jesus to the father. “Trust me and everything will be all right.”
Winter is lifting. The cold is retreating. The days are lengthening again and the grey skies are fleeing. The northern hemisphere is waking up from its long, chilly sleep. Dormant trees are sprouting tender green leaves. Wildflowers are bursting out in yellows and reds. Fruit trees are blossoming. The snow is melting off the mountain slopes and rushing into the lowland streams.
Each winter the world dies; each spring it breathes deeply, stretches wide, and awakens. Life closes its eyes and sleeps. Death opens its mouth, drinks the spring rains and is revived. And from this ancient annual cycle of birth and death, what do we learn? That life comes inevitably to an end, but that death, mysteriously, does not have the final word.
[Arriving at the house, Jesus] wouldn’t let anyone enter with him except Peter, John, James, and the child’s parents. Everyone was crying and carrying on over her. Jesus said, “Don’t cry. She didn’t die; she’s sleeping.”
They laughed at him. They knew she was dead. Then Jesus, gripping her hand, called, “My dear child, get up.”
She was up in an instant, up and breathing again! He told them to give her something to eat. Her parents were ecstatic, but Jesus warned them to keep quiet. “Don’t tell a soul what happened in this room.” —Luke 8:51-56 (The Message)
There have been thousands upon thousands of springs since the world was formed, and there are sure to be more. The God who created life has ordained it. The Savior who conquered death has promised it. We will grow cold and sleep, but in God’s heaven, where it is always spring, we will awaken once again.