Spring is a season of renewal and beauty – be grateful for the thorns that help us reach higher

Many of my greatest role models are those who find strength and resilience in their daily lives. It is their authenticity that inspires me; I see my own vulnerabilities in them and find hope that I, too, can navigate life with skills that bring a sense of renewal. Having someone model living with chronic illness, navigating complex relationships and feelings, or wrestling with hard spiritual questions, helps me see the humanity in all of us. It gives me the courage to be more present with what is and be open to the beauty in it all.

Spring is the season where rebirth and beauty are abundant.

As flowers bloom and the grass awakens in vibrant color, I celebrate spiritual traditions and the pleasure of searching for miracles in hidden places. I have come to see that renewal is not about being “perfect,” but about the profound way nature integrates every part of itself. Sometimes the treasures are through the parts of me I would rather hide, which become the place most likely to bring hope to another.

I look at the rose and see a masterpiece of breathtaking vibrance that thrives alongside its thorns. These thorns are purposeful; they provide protection for the most fragile parts of the bloom and act as hooks, allowing the rose to reach higher toward the sun. While my own

“thorns” have left me with scars, I am grateful for them, as they have supported the unfolding of such beauty within me.

To open my eyes to the spiritual is to recognize that I am a participant in nature. It amazes me that a single mature Maple or Oak tree can produce about 260 pounds of oxygen annually. As a human, I consume about 700 pounds of oxygen a year, meaning just two or three mature trees work in harmony to support my life. When I sit in a community park among a dozen trees, I am standing in a life-support system for my entire neighborhood.

This is a sacred, invisible dance:

The tree graciously takes in the carbon dioxide I exhale and transforms it into solid wood and fresh air. Even in the quiet of winter, the tree holds the power to bring life. Sitting next to a tree is a biological reminder that we are all inextricably woven into one another.

This spring, I choose to be open.

I acknowledge my thorns while reaching for the sun, breathing in the life-sustaining gift of the trees. I am never truly alone; I am being sustained by the world I walk upon. I am ever-evolving, part of a community of people and of nature, where we can forever breathe life into one another.

Grace and Peace from Elissa Noble McCarthy, Aloha United Methodist Church (2270 SW 198th Ave, Beaverton). Feel free to reach out to us: 503-649-9133.