Each year at this time, plots of daffodils sprout and blossom in fields and gardens. Their appearance is a colorful announcement that spring has arrived.

Daffodils are not concerned with wars and rumors of wars. They follow the impulse of their bulbs that have lain dormant, encased in the soil of winter until spring arrives.

In Ukraine, Iran and Israel, and other nations where human turmoil exists, similar flowers grow. Their growth is not hindered by what is happening on the surface above their hidden bulbs, where humans are doing horrible things to each other.  They simply bloom and appear at their appointed time, unaffected by human trauma.

I have been thinking about the people in these war-torn nations. Do their soldiers ever have a rare moment in combat to stop and look at nature’s beauty while hiking with a weapon in hand? Do families look out from the windows of their bomb-damaged homes where they see a flower growing on the edge of their street? Do these people pause for a moment as I did in my small town when I passed four small assemblies of daffodils in a grassy field? When I saw the daffodils, I stopped long enough to appreciate their beauty, just as people do in other places on Earth where peace seems to be a distant hope. 

Any reminder we are given of new life and nature’s beauty is a sign that a season is changing. Lord, give us eyes to see that “The flowers are springing up; the season of singing birds has come” (Song of Solomon 2:12).