I’ve been meeting many people who are experiencing winter burnout (or freeze out).  Even the south has had a winter to remember, featuring killer storms that have just kept coming.  Now it’s time to look past wintry blasts to sweet spring, the season of new life; the gentle time of the year, the season of love, Good Friday and Easter.

     Flowers and colorful blossoms are about to break forth in all their splendor, speaking of God’s love of beauty and His provision of these for us all.

    But what if this breathtaking display that bursts forth every year during the delightful season called spring went unappreciated because we lacked the ability to take it in?  What if our reception of these wonders was only in black and white?

     Not a chance!

     The Creator’s plan is complete, providing both natural beauty and the human capacity to enjoy and appreciate it.  We can also learn from it.

     Jesus urged those who were worried about financial problems to consider the beauty given to lilies in spite of their lack of labor (Matthew 6:26-27), teaching them to trust rather than tremble during tough times.

     Then there is Solomon’s enduring poetic description of spring: “For, lo, the winter is past, the rain (or snow) is over and gone, the flowers appear on the earth; the time of the singing of the birds is come, and the voice of the turtledove is heard in the land” (Song of Solomon 2;11-12).

     The first day of spring is always special to me.  I start the countdown at the beginning

of each New Year and have generally reported the number of days until spring to mycongregations each week until it arrived.  I once received a letter from a family of former members asking how many days remained until spring.

    Spring declares death can only win for a season and that life is always waiting in the wings to take the stage, so I keep trying to spread the good news.

     “There are only a few more days until spring,” I tell people I meet.  And you should see the looks I get.

     “That’s only on the calendar,” some say, wondering how I can be so upbeat about the arrival of spring before the weather is spring like.

     My reply is simple: when we enjoy the anticipation of spring, we’ll feel the balmy breezes and breathe in the aroma of flowers before they bloom.

     Expectation enhances experience.

     Dwight L. Moody, the nineteenth century’s most famous evangelist said, “After December 31st, winter’s back is broken.”  At the end of every year, this man of faith saw spring hurrying on its way to arrive on time: beautiful, life announcing, spring.

     A moving line of composer John W. Peterson’s song “I BELIEVE IN MIRACLES” must have been inspired by his delight in the Designer’s spring extravaganza:

     “I’ve seen the lily push its way up through the stubborn sod;

      I believe in miracles for I believe in God.”

     I do too.   How about you?

Nothing makes news like crucial court cases.  Consider the media coverage given to high profile trials that garner millions of dollars worth of television time and print space.  Everybody loves a mystery.  And there are few arenas of intrigue that compare to courtroom drama.

An attorney friend of mine once told me he would like to write a book about a trial that took place two thousand years ago: the trial of Jesus.  His goal would have been to retry the prisoner, resurrecting the facts and calling for a just decision. Had he fulfilled his dream, he would have birthed a book about the trial of the centuries.  The judge that day refused to render a legal decision, carving out for himself a place in judicial history that has been unmatched through the millennia because of his choice to stay in legal limbo.

Few remember the names of judges presiding over famous trials, but the name of a Roman politician named Pilate is remembered by millions as Easter approaches for his refusal to take a stand on the guilt or innocence of the accused one, even though he admitted he could find no fault in him (John 19:4).

There were many pressures on Pilate during that historic trial.  His wife had sent a message urging him to “have nothing to do with this just man.” He longed to find a way to free this peaceful prisoner but even a suggestion of this brought cries from the crowd that if he did so he wouldn’t be loyal to Caesar, a rumor he couldn’t allow to get back to Rome lest it cost him his job…or his head.

Finally, at the end of himself, Pilate asked a question that has endured through the centuries: “What then shall I do with Jesus who is called Christ” (Matthew 27:22).

Pilate’s historic question was personal: “What shall I do?”

Some decisions are so personal that no one else can make them for us.

“My wife has all the religion in our family,” a man once told me.  But his religious wife will not be able to give an account before God for him.  Her faith will neither clear his name nor relieve him of personal responsibility.

The judge’s personal question demanded action: “What shall I do?”

Pilate didn’t want to do anything.  He tried to avoid deciding by publicly washing his hands to show that he wanted no part in sentencing this prisoner.  He knew what he ought to do but felt he must stay uncommitted in order to please the crowd.  And Pilate was neither the first nor the last to leave the decision that determines destiny to those they were trying to please.

Crowd pleasing Pilate had made some important decisions in his tenure as a representative of Rome, but they were all small compared with this one; no wonder he wanted to stay neutral.

“What if I just don’t care?” a woman asked when confronted with her need to respond in faith to God’s love.  Like Pilate, she didn’t want to decide.

But in not deciding, she decided.

So do we.