{May} Where New Life & Longing are Nurtured | Original

Here beneath the earth’s surface, a holy burial takes form — not as the marking of a brutal end, but as a promise for new life in abundance. What was believed to be a graveyard — a scattering of death — across the Garden through those harsh days of winter, was really a quiet wisdom deeply rooted; a protection against the darkness with patient assurance for spring’s glorious light. The soil that had become a foundation for all brokenness to be laid to rest, now gives way for a resurrection; blooming flowers, all reaching for the sun. A once impenetrable veil made of blue, violet, and crimson is torn — removing all barriers between the Gardener and His Garden. Every unfolding flower bears witness to a baptism at its roots. The earth does not simply swallow each planted seed, but transforms it and raises it up in an eternal embrace. Light filters through branches once bowed in mourning, and longstanding silence breaks into song. Echoes of the Gardener’s voice are heard through the land, as He softly sings amongst all that’s in bloom, “O death, where is your victory? O death, where is your sting?” In the Garden, death is not denied. It is witnessed, honored, and entered into in full by the Gardener, Himself. But death does not remain. Its grave becomes a doorway; an invitation into new life, where light does not dim, love does not sway, and glory rises evermore — no longer weighed down by a heavy veil. Here, death dies and new life is born.