Look for Life

I live in Nashville, TN, which means I spent early April navigating a nearly week-long storm. During the moments of calm in between bursts of anxiety, I noticed something. 

My apartment looks out onto a courtyard with some trees, and that day, I noticed we still didn’t have any greenery. Between the barren trees and the stones below them, everything was very brown. Very wintry. I noticed that while the sun had been shining more, and I’d been telling everyone that Spring had finally sprung and I could feel it in my mental health, I realized Spring had not sprung for what I can safely call my favorite trees since I look at them out my window every single day.

Then, in what felt like a blink of an eye, one of the torrential downpours did something. Spring finally sprung for my trees! In one of the calm before-the-storm mornings, I looked out and noticed the smallest, smallest buds of green beginning to show. They were barely there–and I almost thought it was some grass in the distance, but it wasn’t. Spring had sprung for my trees!

Over the following week, many trees filled out, but I began to fear the tree closest to my window had died because it remained bare. But then, I looked out and discovered those small, smallest buds of green beginning to show. I am somewhat surprised by how excited I get each morning as I check on my trees, witnessing their smallest buds becoming larger, and for some of them, their new welcome blanket of green finally showing off. It feels worthy of celebration. So, I’ve been reflecting on these trees all week, yearning to be outside experiencing this new Spring.

And still today, another awakening: I haven’t just been watching these trees, I have been grateful for them. When I thought the tree closest to my window maybe wouldn’t show any of those small, smallest buds–my heart sank. I felt so sad for the little guy.  These trees are a source of joy for me. I am grateful for them; I care about them. They brighten my days and lighten the negativity in my heart, and I find myself hoping my care for them is as deep as their care for me.

I find this all very timely as I take in the unfolding drama of Holy Week, which leads us into today’s celebration of Easter. There is something incredibly powerful about navigating the culmination of a season that honors the beauty and tumult of life, death, and resurrection of Jesus during the seasonal shift of winter to spring showing us from the ground up, the beauty and tumult of life, death, and resurrection.  

During Lent, we explored Jesus’ ministry on earth and then prayed through the dramas of Holy Week that sent him to death.  And yet, for the Christian, death is never the end. We believe death is never the end BECAUSE of what we celebrate today, which is what happened after he died: the resurrection, the grand mystery of Easter that has resulted in Christianity. For Christians, this is the day that defines who we are; it is the day that shows us the very hope of eternal life we put our trust in. Both the Easter Vigil and Easter Sunday usher us into the joy of the resurrection. This is when we proclaim Christ is risen. This is when we are reminded that even in our sorrow and death, God meets us with joy and resurrection.

It brings to mind a quote I love, from Frederick Buchner, who wrote, “The gospel is always bad news before it is good news.”  My faith proclaims that when we are inside the bad news, the good news is on the way. There is hope because we were saved on a cross thousands of years ago and we are saved every day when we discover there is another gust of breath in our lungs when we know the previous breath could have been our last.

The trees out my window—much like the rest of nature—allow me to look outside and see changes in seasons that remind me of life, death, and resurrection. In the same way, if you are trying to figure out how to observe Easter individually or with your family, nature might be your best guide! Here are some nature-based ideas to help you explore your community and see the life cycle of God within the life cycle of your plant and creature neighbors.

1. Visit a local park and look for life cycles. Take a solo or group trip to a local park and look for things like dead leaves lying beside green leaves, like what I see out my window. You can even spend some time quietly contemplating the difference, as a sort of Visio Divina, but with leaves. What are the differences between the two? Which one looks like how you feel inside?  How do you think God cares for both of the leaves?
2. Visit a state park with a small museum. I specifically want to give a shout-out to state parks close that might be close to you. This could even be a fun day trip! Here in Nashville, I love visiting Radnor Lake Park. I love walking in the park, but I also enjoy its small museum. Just by popping inside, I learned about decades-long local efforts to save the bald eagle. A park with even a small museum will likely highlight some nature cares and concerns unique to your area.
3. Look for nests and see what’s inside and around. I love seeing the neat, funky little whosits and whatsits the birds find to make their safe havens. Using a phone or binoculars, can you get a closer look without disturbing the birds? Is anything inside?  Do you see parents caring for babies? Does the nest look abandoned? Look for signs of life.
4. Learn more about the birds, trees, bees, fauna, flora, and other life around you. We can’t always go on a field trip, but we CAN grab books from the library that can teach us more about the world around us, which will help us notice more when we’re out and about. For example, I love dandelions so I notice them everywhere. You might say my heart is extra attentive to them, so I am quick to notice them and receive the joy of seeing them. By learning more about what lives in your backyard, you can begin to have more of an attentive heart to them, which means you’re more likely to notice their natural life cycles.
5. What can you see from your windows? There are likely many of you who, like me, don’t have tons of access to green space at home. What if you made looking out your window a spiritual practice? What if you spent time looking out your window intentionally searching for all life you can find? Consider this a way you are spiritually noticing life around you and, in doing so, receiving the hope of new life through resurrection. 

As I look out my window writing this post, I see more of those small, smallest buds of green showing up on my trees, reminding me that Spring really has sprung. The birds really do sing. The tomb really is empty.  

Thankfully, Easter is not just a day; Easter is a season. I pray you can find opportunities to notice the abundant life and life cycles around you, may they be reminders of life, death, and resurrection through the gift of our Savior Jesus Christ and the gift of the world around us.