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Saturday was clear and mild. There was a hint of spring in the air. In the side garden the ephemera had begun to bloom. The small, yellow faces and soft green foliage of the humble ephemera stood in contrast to the rest of the decaying, lifeless garden. Ephemera are a variety of tiny wild flower that can spread throughout an entire yard without causing harm. They bloom as early as the crocus, but within a month or so, even before all the daffodils fully emerge, the ephemera are gone. They are such wonderful reminders of the brevity of life and the need to recognize the beauty of the moment. I always feel certain that the threat of winter is gone when I see the ephemera bloom. At least that is what I thought until the snow fell last night. A half foot of heavy snow blankets the side garden. There are no ephemera in sight. Everything is covered. As I shoveled the walk this morning it felt as if winter had come to have its last laugh. Winter has a way of arriving when you don't want it to and blotting out all the fragile signs of life. But the force of life cannot be stopped even by a last impulsive snowstorm of winter. Life moves ever forward by the unseen hand of God's grace. What gets blotted out and lost will be covered and revealed again. The temperature
through the day grew warmer. By the time I arrived back home much
of the snow had melted. I walked around to the side garden and to
my delight found the tiny faces of the ephemera poking through the snow.
What I thought was lost was not lost at all. In fact, their faces
seemed triumphantly present in contrast to the snow. They spoke a
silent witness revealed to us in Christ. We are eternal. Even
the humble ephemera celebrate the joy. --H.S.
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