Spring greetings to you, my friend,

One of my favorite Georgia writers is Lewis Grizzard who says, "Springtime is the land awakening. The March winds are the morning yawn." The winter is past, and it’s beginning to feel like spring in these Texas hills. The March winds have been huffing and puffing for a few weeks now, making me long for April’s flowers and showers. We have seen temperatures from freezing to eighty in the last week. Mark Twain must have spent a spring or two in Texas. He says, "In the Spring, I have counted 136 different kinds of weather inside of 24 hours."  

Spring is for growing. I grew up in South Georgia where I was accustomed to fertile soil that would grow almost anything—seed, seedling, or an azalea limb that touched that loamy earth. As a petite girl, I wondered if I could stand barefooted in that red clay and grow at least three or four inches. (Unfortunately, I still stand a solid five feet tall if I take a deep breath.) My Georgia friends posting pictures of their azaleas and dogwoods on social media send me into a siege of homesickness and a strong desire to plant my feet in that clay again. And I dream of the peaches and tomatoes growing there that will taste like none other. 

Living in Texas, I’ve learned to appreciate a different kind of soil. I had never heard of caliche until I began to garden in Texas. According to geologists, caliche is a shallow layer of soil that is like cement because of the minerals that bind it. It makes breathtaking cliffsides in our neighborhood, but I can tell you this: it takes some muscle and a jackhammer to dig a hole. That’s why it astonishes me that anything can grow in it and through it. As Bill and I have hiked these Texas hills for years, my amazement in seeing how these fragile flowers struggle to grow in solid caliche has never waned. The tender leaves and buds push up through the rock, their delicate blossoms unblemished. 

There is a lesson here about life and how some struggle so hard just to live while others thrive. I marvel at some of my friends who have faced the steepest crags, rocky paths, and the deepest crevices of life, and yet they have blossomed into the most beautiful souls. I know they have looked to the Source, the Life-Giver.  

But back to springtime . . . I asked Bill recently what were the first words that came to his mind when he thought of springtime. As a theologian, his responses were no surprise. Green. Growth. Coming alive. Beginnings. Refreshed. New life. 

Interestingly enough, these words would also describe Springtime of the Song, the sixth book in the Rockwater Suite which will released on May 2. This continues the saga of Caroline and Roderick Adair and Gretchen Silva. Just like with springtime, change is in the air at Rockwater. And Gretchen returns to Austria, but this time, not alone. Secrets. New relationships. Mystery. Romance. Hope. Faith. Love. You’re getting the sneak preview of the book cover. You may remember that Bill does a painting for each of my books, and sometimes they turn into a book cover. As I read each day’s writing progress to him, he begins to imagine, and then the images appear on his canvas. This one is another beauty. 

Now to Easter, the jeweled crown of springtime . . . What joy it brings and how appropriate that we celebrate Easter in the spring. Nothing like the spring greening of the fields and the budding trees which have been barren all winter to remind us of the cycle and seasons of life. Spring is a reminder of what Jesus did for a cold, dark world. 

For the last three years I have either blogged or posted on social media my Holy Week in Real Time series, and each year I receive requests for the series in one document, which I gladly make available. So, this year, I have made this devotional series available in a download. You can read the Gospel accounts of what Jesus and His disciples were doing each day of Holy Week – from the hosannas of Palm Sunday to the Resurrection. I hope you will read God’s Word and allow it to stir your imagination. I also included a special Easter excerpt from my book Sacred Sense and a monologue I wrote that voices what Elizabeth might have been feeling at the crucifixion and the Resurrection, something else to stir your imagination. Click here to get your download, and please share it with your family members and friends.  https://phyllisclarknichols.com/holy-week-in-real-time-2023/.  See picture below.

I close with the words of Charlotte Brontë. "Spring drew on...and a greenness grew over those brown beds, which, freshening daily, suggested the thought that Hope traversed them at night, and left each morning brighter traces of her steps."  That’s what God does. He leaves bright traces of His steps through our lives.

Joy,
Phyllis