The Beauty of New Life: Sacred Circle Reflection
A Reflection by Christine Jurisich
There is something mystical about the moment you see a rose about to burst open and reveal its divine beauty. It looks and smells like hope. The visual reminds me that beauty is always present, waiting to be noticed, and it inspires me to celebrate the Easter season of new life.
Here in Northern California, it is already warm, and spring’s burst of color and fragrance has arrived. Every time I take a walk in my neighborhood, my heart skips a beat as I pass rows of roses preparing to bloom. There is so much to learn about God, the cycles of life, and the promise of hope when we spend time outdoors—or even when we tend to plants inside our homes.
Beauty as an Invitation to God
In the book, “The Invisible Embrace: Beauty,” John O’Donohue speaks of Beauty with a capital “B” as an invitation—an opening of our hearts and minds to God, the Creator of all that is good, merciful, and beautiful. Time outdoors helps us to recognize how God speaks, heals, comforts, and sustains us through creation.
O’Donohue says Beauty in the outdoors meets a deep need within our souls. When we long for beauty, we are, at our core, longing for God. In moments of disappointment, loss, or stress—when we desperately seek connection with the Divine—the invitation is simple: look for one small piece of goodness around you. Often, that glimmer of divine hope is found in a quiet pause: a flower; a delicate leaf; a breathtaking formation of birds across the sky.
Lessons from the Garden
My heart feels hopeful when I gaze at my rose bushes and notice their different stages of growth. From the branch that appears empty and waiting, to the bud slowly revealing new life, to the full bloom radiating bold beauty, each stage reflects the movements within my own life, especially the journey through grief and the quiet promise of renewal.
These moments calm me. I begin to see my place within the universal rhythm of death and new life, and I am comforted by the truth that living, suffering, dying, and rising are all part of the Christian experience.
Gardening with God
For those who enjoy gardening, how does the act of planting seeds, pulling weeds, deadheading, and harvesting connect you to God and the rhythms of life?
I am still a beginner, yet I am discovering gardening as a deeply prayerful act, rich with lessons for the soul. Spiritual growth concepts like letting go and embracing new life become embodied prayers as my hands dig into the soil and get dirty.
I am reminded of how much I cannot control—and how much I need to release. I see it when I overwater my bush beans, and they stop producing, or when I accidentally kill a hydrangea by overfertilizing. I uncomfortably notice my feelings of entitlement when I get frustrated comparing my basil to my neighbor’s or my tomatoes to my stepdad’s. “I’m doing all the right things. Why aren’t they working?” I complain to myself and then I reflect on when I have said that in everyday life.
In all of this, the garden gently teaches humility, patience, and trust.
Beauty as a Source of Hope
Beauty offers us hope in that it reminds us how God never stops creating. Recognizing beauty is a choice. When we choose to pause and notice the intricate pattern of branches on a tree or the quiet unfolding of a blossom, we begin to cultivate hope within ourselves.
This hope invites us to become co-creators with God, spreading beauty into the world in both small and meaningful ways.
John O’Donohue captures this truth in a powerful question:
Why turn to beauty when the world is in crisis? Because there is nowhere else to turn, and we are desperate. It is as simple as that.
Reflect:
For those of you who appreciate the outdoors, how does God speak to you about new life in all living things?
For those of you who garden, what are the lessons you learn about life and how does it bring you closer to God?
Did this reflection resonate with you?
We share the month’s theme in Sacred Circles every month. Come to one or come to all. New people are always welcome.