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Springtime has returned to my backyard with full bloom. This seasonal reality is nowhere more evident than in the branches of a very large, decorative cherry tree in our backyard that boasts and displays full, rich blossoms. It must look like a giant, pink cotton ball to the Canadian geese flying north above our neighbourhood. In the morning, when I get out of bed and open the blinds on my bedroom window, its vibrancy of colour greets my sleepy, night-owl eyes. The sight of it fills my heart with appreciation, thanksgiving, joy, and melancholy.

Yes, melancholy. In the midst of all that there is to revel in each day that tree is in full bloom, a silent thought reminds me that a morning is coming soon when my back lawn will be covered by a pink carpet of dropped-off, faded petals; marking again the steady and sure advance of the years. Together with the last present opened on Christmas morning, the last day of summer vacation, and the last kiss goodbye at an airport, the falling and passing of the last celebrated blossom of spring sounds another reverb in the cavernous echo of human existence.

Thankfully there is an antidote for this subtle . . .

Springtime has returned to my backyard with full bloom. This seasonal reality is nowhere more evident than in the branches of a very large, decorative cherry tree in our backyard that boasts and displays full, rich blossoms. It must look like a giant, pink cotton ball to the Canadian geese flying north above our neighbourhood. In the morning, when I get out of bed and open the blinds on my bedroom window, its vibrancy of colour greets my sleepy, night-owl eyes. The sight of it fills my heart with appreciation, thanksgiving, joy, and melancholy.

Yes, melancholy. In the midst of all that there is to revel in each day that tree is in full bloom, a silent thought reminds me that a morning is coming soon when my back lawn will be covered by a pink carpet of dropped-off, faded petals; marking again the steady and sure advance of the years. Together with the last present opened on Christmas morning, the last day of summer vacation, and the last kiss goodbye at an airport, the falling and passing of the last celebrated blossom of spring sounds another reverb in the cavernous echo of human existence.

Thankfully there is an antidote for this subtle somberness - Jesus Christ the timeless One. On their own, holiday traditions and passing seasons lend themselves to the subtle reminder that life is being used up. However, with a focus on Jesus these same times remind us that through our personal faith in Him (and in Him alone) our lives are not just being used up. Rather, they are being spent for eternity and we shall live forever just as Jesus promised.

It has been rightly said of Jesus at Christmastime, ?He is the reason for the season.? This is true of the other seasons of the year as well. The shortening days of late summer, autumn's last leaf on the tree, winter's first snowfall, and a lawn covered in fallen cherry blossoms are all reminders to us that life only makes sense when it is lived with and for Jesus. Even the passing of 100 springs is nothing to mourn if they have been lived for Jesus Christ. The remedy for the mortal melancholy brought on by the passing of time is to truly answer yes to Jesus? question in John, chapter 11, verses 25+26:

"I am the resurrection and the life. He who believes in me will live, even though he dies; and whoever lives and believes in me will never die. Do you believe this?"

Pastor Tim Davis, Copyright 2005
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