Sunday, 20 March 2016
I ponder as I ponder . . .
There is an old wive's tale that if the wind is in the north-east on the first day of Spring . . . it will remain in that quarter until the first day of summer. I poked my head out the door with a small amount of trepidation this morning . . . just so that I could feel what sort of breeze might be ruffling through the camelia outside my front door.
Only the merest , smallest ripple of air could be detected, born on the wings of that beautiful springtime morning chorus.
There is a light sugaring of frost on the front and rear window of the car . . . only very sparse . . . barely even there . . the merest hint. It will melt rapidly once the sun comes up and I can see the faint glimmer of that already on the horizon. The hope which has hung . . . teetering precariously on the edge of my mind for what seems like forever now stands firmly as a fact. It's official.
My calendar confirms what the blackbird has been telling me for the past three weeks (in its very beautiful way). SPRING has sprung! Complete with daffodils, hawthorne blossom, catkins, hares which dance upon the greening meadows, and my most favourite harbinger of all . . . the fat little bumble bee in his prickly little jacket of gold and black.
Winter is truly on the wane . . .
The sparrows are so cheeky now . . . they flirt and dance upon the top of the gate. Nests are being woven into the waxy green leaves of our hedgerow in anticipation. The frogs have spawned. I love it.
This is the season of renewal, and today marks the beginning of that most holy week, the holiest of the year. Today being Palm Sunday . . . the day when we traditionally mark the triumphal entry of the Saviour into the city of Jerusalem . . . with shouts of hosanna and the laying down of palm fronds . . .
Shouts of hosanna . . . which just a few days later would turn into shouts of "crucify Him" . . .
It is incomprehensible to me . . . this fickleness of man. How one could witness miracles and wonders . . . and then turn their faces and backs on the very one who had performed them all . . . and during His greatest hour of need . . . when even the Father turned his face away.
And yet . . . it HAD to be. And therein lies the greatest gift ever given to mankind . . . that of eternal life. No longer did we have to remain dead in our sins . . . the penalty of blood having been given once and for ALL upon the cross of Calvary.
For you. For me. For all mankind. The good, the bad and the inbetween. Not just those who believe, but for everyone. I can scarce take it in . . . the wonder of it all. It is unfathomable, and yet. It happened.
Today is the first day of the rest of your life . . . make it the best . . .
In The English Kitchen today . . . I am sharing my recipe for my Homemade Brownie Mix and Easter Basket Brownies. Scrumptiously delish. I can see all of your pancreas's twitching from here. This one is truly for the kids.
Have a blessed Sabbath Day, Palm Sunday. Don't forget . . .
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and I do too!