These tiny raspberry blossoms are on their way to becoming red berries, a miracle, given what happened last spring. Our seventeen year-old neighbor, newly hired by my husband to do yard work, weed-whacked his way through our berry patch. When he was finished, not a twig stood standing. I was devastated.
I’d carefully planted the berry patch last spring, root stem by root stem, and I’d checked on them daily, rejoicing at their growth. They were about to blossom when our neighbor decided they looked like multifloral rose, a virulent creeper, and cut them down. In my angry grief, I imagined they would never grow back.
I’d forgotten that God creates new life out of chaos.