It is springtime, which means it is time for the annual broadcast of The Ten Commandments, starring Charlton Heston.

As I was thinking about what to write for this week’s article, I found myself watching the scene of Moses at the burning bush. In the movie, as in the Bible, Moses, while tending his sheep, comes upon a bush engulfed in flames yet not consumed. From it, he hears a voice calling his name and is given a daunting task: to return to Egypt and lead his people out of slavery.

In the movie, he returns home where his friend Joshua and his wife are waiting. Joshua says, “Look at his face.” Moses’ wife replies, “He has seen the Lord.” Then she continues, “Moses, your hair.”  He had gone up the mountain with dark hair and returned with gray.
As parents, maybe a few conversations with teenagers have added gray hair of your own. But this was different. Moses hadn’t just had a difficult conversation. He had encountered God, and it showed. He was no longer a simple shepherd; his robes were long, his hair distinguished, and he moved with quiet confidence.

This scene isn’t in Scripture, but director DeMille’s symbolic vision shows how God’s encounter might have changed Moses—and I can’t help but wonder: what would be different about a person who has truly “seen the Lord”?

For Christians, we see the answer begin to unfold in the Easter story. On Easter morning, Mary met Jesus in the garden, and when he called her name, she recognized him. That evening, Jesus appeared to his disciples as they hid in fear behind locked doors, and they were overjoyed. And for each of these, seeing the risen Christ changed them.

Whether in a single moment or gradually over time, encountering the Lord leaves a mark. Moses returned with confidence and faith and went on to do God’s bidding. Mary’s grief turned to joy and she ran to share the news. The disciples left fear behind and began preaching and healing in God’s name. In every case, the encounter with God shaped them, and the change was visible to others.

We too are invited to live in ways that reflect what we have encountered. Small, ordinary acts - like forgiveness, kindness, calmness under stress, encouragement, listening instead of arguing, or standing up for those who cannot stand for themselves - reveal that something profound has touched our lives. These are the marks of hope, courage, and patience.
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Others may notice something in us—not always a dramatic change, and not in outward signs like gray hair or robes, but in a steadiness, a care, a quiet strength. Whether newly formed or long present, these qualities can reflect a life shaped by an encounter with God. And what others see in us may inspire them to live with greater care and compassion—building a stronger, more compassionate world, one life at a time.

We are now entering that time when spring teases us. One day, we see it peek around the corner; the next day, it disappears. Still, we know the time is coming, and so we begin to prepare.

You might find yourself sorting through winter clothes, deciding what belongs in the trash or donation pile, what needs a trip to the dry cleaners, and what simply needs a little cleaning or repair before being tucked away. Before long, your attention turns to spring clothes, shaking out the wrinkles and choosing what you want ready for that next bright, warm day. There’s a quiet anticipation in it all, a sense that something new is on its way.

Perhaps this is also a good time to do the same with our lives. With a spirit of honesty and grace, we can look at old habits and patterns and ask what is ready to be let go, what might be set aside for a season, and what simply needs a bit of care to be used again.

We might find that old grudges and lingering bitterness are ready for the trash bin. This may be a time to tend more intentionally to our relationships, to speak with greater care, and even to refresh the ways we show up in everyday spaces, like our conversations or our presence online, with words that are thoughtful and kind. These small acts of care can quietly shape not only our own hearts, but the life of our community.

It doesn’t take much to notice that we are living in a time when conversations can feel strained and patience can wear thin. In seasons like this, it becomes easy to grow defensive or quick to judge. And yet, perhaps this, too, is something we are invited to lay down. What might it look like to “clean up” not only our closets, but our words; to speak with gentleness, to listen with openness, and to choose kindness even when we do not see eye to eye?

For Christians, this kind of reflection is at the heart of the season of Lent: a time to pause, to take stock, and to turn again toward what matters most. It is a season of preparing the heart, making room for the hope and new life that Easter proclaims.

And yet, even beyond the Christian tradition, this time of year seems to carry its own quiet invitation. As the world around us begins to awaken, many feel a pull to begin again, to clear away what feels heavy, to make space for what brings life, and to step forward with renewed intention.
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However we name it, the invitation remains: to live a little lighter, to love a little more freely, and to enter this new season with open hearts and a renewed sense of hope.