It has been a long winter. The whole creation has been groaning together as it suffers the pains of labor. Naked trees have longed for the warmth of their leaves. Rivers have waited for the return of fish and birds. Even the wind has yearned to bring warmth to all it touches. This is the yearning of a world without wonder, a world without the possibility of hope. Suddenly in the distance a man sits atop a donkey, slowly making his way to Jerusalem. Crowds gather, and palms are laid before him. Hosannah! They shout. The messiah is finally here. Not with gold and horns blaring, but a man on a donkey, riding slowly past the crowds. Spring does not come quickly, but takes its time. Breathe deep and feel your breath expand your lungs. Release the tension you’ve been holding in your shoulders, your neck, your jaw. Let your skin feel the first warm breeze of the season. See the new green shoots amid the dormant forest, the little buds poised to burst into light green leaves. The winter is over, my friend. Hosannah in the highest! Prepare ye the way of the Lord. The trees are buzzing. The river is warming. The Son is here. Hosannah in the highest. Hosannah in the highest.