“See, I am doing a new thing! Now it springs up; do you not perceive it?” – Isaiah 43:19

Jeff called me from the car as soon as I got home from work yesterday, “We better pick this asparagus today, and we’ll have another round tomorrow.”  He has joined our worship team at church and had his second meeting last night. I’m in crunch-time trying to wrap up work before I leave for seminary on Sunday. New things seem to be springing up all over our lives.

There’s something deeply holy about spring. After the quiet of winter (and this last was particularly quiet for us in Northern Illinois), the soil begins to stir. Tiny green shoots push through, brave, and determined. In our little patch, the asparagus has made its first appearance, spears breaking through the earth like small miracles. We really don’t do much to make it grow, just trust it will come back, and each year, the crop increases.

This season, new growth isn’t only happening in our asparagus patch, as I mentioned, along with Jeff’s venture onto the worship team and my returnto seminary, today marks my last day in my full-time hospice role. This has been a chapter that has shaped my soul in ways I’m still discovering. It has been a time of profound challenge and immeasurable blessing. I carry with me the sacred privilege of walking alongside patients and families in their most tender moments. They invited me into spaces of deep pain but also profound peace and grace. What a gift it has been to witness the strength of the human spirit and the gentle presence of God in the midst of suffering.

I leave this role filled with gratitude, too, for the exceptional coworkers who share so much compassion and wisdom and care, and for every story, every hand held, every quiet goodbye that taught me more about love, presence, and the beauty of a well-lived life.

Spring reminds us that even endings are beginnings. That pruning and rest make way for growth. And that God is always at work in us, even when we cannot yet see the fruit.

My prayer for each of us today, wherever you are at, is that we might we lean into the new things God is doing. May we celebrate the sweetness of today’s harvest, whether it’s asparagus from our yards or the deep, lasting fruit of a season faithfully lived. And may we trust that the God who brings life from the soil will continue to bring life from our souls. Here’s to beautiful endings and springing forth into new beginnings!