It is a sprout, well budded-out
Added 2021-03-21 02:15:12 +0000 UTC
Today is Alban Eiler, the spring equinox, and I found myself thinking over and over of resurrection, which is a topic I intend to return to in greater depth at Easter. But for now I’ll say that today—and for many days before now—I’m seeing it everywhere. It’s bursting from the trees and the honeysuckle and from the bulbs in my garden in a way that seems both unstoppable and inevitable.
This has been an absolutely nightmarish year. A year, indeed—I have now been in almost total lockdown for over 365 days. It doesn’t get easier. Some days it feels crushing. But I go for a walk in the woods and I sit in my grove, and in those spaces it feels as if stronger forces are at work.
My mom sent me this quote from Beth Moore today:
Nothing in creation is as defiant as resurrection. Spring draws her courage from an empty tomb. Spring was our first Magdalene. Our first evangelist, preaching risenness in advance.
I’ve written before about how one of the most wonderful, joyful things about this path so far has been how surprisingly easy my braiding of Druidry and Christianity has been, and I feel like this is a big part of why: I’m being guided in it by the deepest rhythms in creation, by a dance that we’re all called to no matter what tradition we follow.
What I worship is in the Living Earth, and it is undeniable.
So today I rejoice in spring, I invoke and make an offering to the lady Eostre, and I burn the last of my holly sprigs to make way for the Oak King. And I look toward the fulfillment of that constant resurrection made manifest, in the coming of the risen Christ.
And the Wheel turns.
