Revisiting: Beneath the Surface

DCP 1834

If then you cannot do even a very little thing, why do you worry about other matters?  Consider the lilies, how they grow: they neither toil nor spin; but I tell you, not even Solomon in all his glory clothed himself like one of these. Luke 12:26-27

I love flowers.  In particular, I delight in wildflowers.  I’ve written before about the beauty that surfaces year after year in the land surrounding the home we live in.  Situated on the edge of a small wood and across from a lake, the splendor of nature abounds. 

I guess I feel a kinship with nature.

During the early, early spring, the display begins and it begins with my favorite flower: Snowdrops.  Sometime during the end of February and the beginning of March, they begin their journey from beneath the snow and peek their lovely little heads up, proudly announcing that spring is on its way.  They don’t last long – a few weeks at best and they are gone, hidden by the grass as the tiny bulbs rest and grow and wait for the next year’s warming earth after the bitter Indiana cold.

Our flowers have naturalized – grown far beyond the boundaries where they “should” be growing.  During those spring months, our yard is literally covered with these tiny jewels.

I was looking out the window today at the yard where the flowers first begin to bloom.  I got to thinking of how barren that ground looks now, compared to those few weeks that fill me with delight.

Then, I started thinking deeper.  Literally.  I thought about the thousands and thousands of bulbs (yes, there are that many flowers), that lie beneath the surface.  No one would ever know what lie snuggled in the earth – resting, growing, waiting, and I thought of how much that is like life with a chronic illness.  The surface looks so barren – almost a wasteland.

If you were to look at me now, pretty much living out of my recliner – not really caring about makeup or fashion anymore, I’d kind of be like those acres of land.  Nothing much to see and what seems to be at times, a pretty wasted life.

If I dwell on that, I can get rather down.  I’ve said before that this is not what I thought my life would be.  Yet, I now see all of this time as my time to rest, and grow, and wait – much like my beloved snowdrops.  One day, on the right day, this tired body will blossom again.  The light of the Son will make sure of that.

Rather than live in dismay at my conditions, I can see things differently.  I guess I can’t think of a better thing than being a snowdrop.  Yes, they lie dormant beneath the earth for many months – but when they blossom, it can take your breath away.

Father God, Thank you for the promises You have given us. Help us to truly understand the hope that lies within us.  Grant us peace during the dormant, seemingly wasted days of our lives and help us to understand, it all becomes beautiful in Your time.  Amen and amen.

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