I see it in my mind's eye: a howling wilderness. A great and terrible desert, like the Sahara. Nothing, nothing to relieve the eye. Everywhere I look, hot sand stretches endlessly, littered with ten thousand bleaching bones of those who lost their way and died in agony. What a horrifying sight! A sea of sand without boundary, without oasis. A graveyard for the lost.

But look! Watch this! Suddenly, from that scorching sand, a plant of renown springs up. As it grows, it buds. The bud opens. It is a rose! And beside it, a lily bows its gentle head. And then — miracle of all miracles — as the fragrance of those flowers spreads, the entire wilderness transforms into a garden. Everything bursts into bloom. The glory of Lebanon covers it. The beauty of Carmel and Sharon fills it.

Don't call it Sahara anymore. Call it Paradise. Don't speak of it as the valley of deathshade, because where the skeletons once bleached in the sun, resurrection is breaking out! The dead are rising, a mighty army, bursting with eternal life.

Jesus is that plant of renown. His presence makes all things new.

And the miracle is no less astounding when it happens in your own soul. I see you there, dear friend. You were thrown out like an abandoned infant — unwashed, uncared for, covered in your own blood, left to die. But then! A divine hand placed a jewel in your heart, and for its sake, God himself has watched over you. You are washed clean from all your filth. You are adopted into heaven's family. Love's seal is on your forehead. Faithfulness encircles your finger like a ring. You are now a prince of God — though once you were an orphan, thrown away.

O prize this beyond all measure! Prize exceedingly the matchless power and grace that transforms deserts into Eden, that makes the barren heart burst into song!