I talk to plants.
I'm going to admit that right here, right now. Up front.
As I wander through my garden in the spring, I feel as though I am seeing good friends for the first time in months. I can't help it.
I call them all by name.
"'Look at you, Daylilies! I haven't seen you for so long! You're doing well!" my voice croons. "I forgot you were there, it's been so long, Bleeding Heart!"
Some perennials wake up more slowly than others from their spell of winter enchantment. These, I poke around gently for, watching for them with anticipation, calling to them even before their noses dare to peek above the soil level. "Come on, Hosta, you can do it!" I encourage. "Look - it's warm now. No more frost, or scary snow. Come on out!" I wheedle.
Some days, I imagine that my encouragement is just what the most tender specimen needs to regain the courage to live again. But I know whose Voice is really calling my friends back from the dead. The Voice that spoke stars into galaxies. The Voice that compelled the first human to take his first breath.
The same Voice that called Lazarus out of his tomb...
Lazarus was a close friend of Jesus. In front of all the mourners, Jesus showed how powerful His voice could be - and those present would never be the same as a dead man walked out of his tomb after being dead for 4 days.
Watching the miracle of my garden coming to life every spring after being distinctively dead, I know the power of the Voice of God. His design has made many plants perennial - able to die back to the ground and hibernate for the winter, regenerating in the spring. His voice through the sun and rain of spring calls them back to life in a replay of the Lazarus call in a delightful yearly ritual.
And this same Voice calls to each of us, calling us by name, wooing us back from the dead.
There are so many things which rob us of life. Like the grip of winter on my perennial beds, disease, failure, fear, grief, tragedy, financial ruin, all of the deeply difficult passages in our lives that come from living in a fallen world can rob us of our ability to be fully alive. So Jesus steps in, at the moment of the pain, calling us by name to come out of our tombs and grasp life.
Can you hear the Voice that wakes the dead?
No matter where you are today, no matter how traumatic or difficult your circumstances, you can live. You can walk out of your grave into the light of the Son whose voice calls you to Himself, where the life is hiding. Yes, the graveclothes will still cling to you. Yes, what you are walking through has caused damage. But friend, your soul is a perennial, designed to live through whatever life's seasons can throw at you - and beyond, into eternity. Isn't it worth your time to learn to recognize the voice of Jesus calling you?
Rise up, friend. Come out of your grave. Live again!
Because the Voice to wake the dead is calling you by name today...
For a poem on this topic, visit Meanwhile, Melody Muses