I went out of town for a couple of days last week and when I returned, I was amazed by all of the new growth on plants that had nothing but tiny buds on them when I left. Where before, there was just a hint of new growth, there were now, actual leaves. And not just a few. My Miniature Barbados Cherry shrubs were literally coverered in tender greeen leaves. The vegetable garden had actual tiny plants where before, there were just rows of dirt. My Redbuds lost their blossoms and now had tissue thin burgundy leaves running the length of their branches. The Meyer lemon tree had blossoms holding the promise of a crop of tart lemons. My Katrina rose, lovely Peggy Martin, had tiny pink blooms waiting to greet me when I drove up. And then there are the bluebirds, a faithful couple nurturing a cozy nest of five perfect little blue eggs that look more like Easter candy tumbled together than actual vessels holding new life.
On Monday, I was reading while I waited for some costly car repairs to be done. I was impatient and bitter that I was having to spend money I didn't really need to be spending right then. But while I was reading, I was reminded of a quote I have heard often: "Bloom where you're planted." Of course, I didn't exactly feel like blooming in the waiting room of a brake shop. But I began to realize how easy it is for me to grow discontent in a situation. How easily I get frustrated when things don't go the way I want them to--or think they need to. How so often my frustration stems from trying to force that which cannot be forced. I began to realize once again, that I just need to let myself grow.
It is probably a good thing that we humans don't bloom as predictably as the plants in Spring. You know, the ones that have an instinctual understanding of the ebb and flow of seasons. The ones that know how to wait until the right time to bloom. And after a cold winter of growing deep, they grow up and out right where they were planted. If only we had that innate understanding of our place in the universe. Of course, knowing our human tendency to toot our own horns, we'd probably spend the whole winter running around telling people "Watch me! Watch what I'm about to do." And forgetting to grow deep, we'd miss our chance to bloom. Right where God planted us.
On Monday, I was reading while I waited for some costly car repairs to be done. I was impatient and bitter that I was having to spend money I didn't really need to be spending right then. But while I was reading, I was reminded of a quote I have heard often: "Bloom where you're planted." Of course, I didn't exactly feel like blooming in the waiting room of a brake shop. But I began to realize how easy it is for me to grow discontent in a situation. How easily I get frustrated when things don't go the way I want them to--or think they need to. How so often my frustration stems from trying to force that which cannot be forced. I began to realize once again, that I just need to let myself grow.
It is probably a good thing that we humans don't bloom as predictably as the plants in Spring. You know, the ones that have an instinctual understanding of the ebb and flow of seasons. The ones that know how to wait until the right time to bloom. And after a cold winter of growing deep, they grow up and out right where they were planted. If only we had that innate understanding of our place in the universe. Of course, knowing our human tendency to toot our own horns, we'd probably spend the whole winter running around telling people "Watch me! Watch what I'm about to do." And forgetting to grow deep, we'd miss our chance to bloom. Right where God planted us.
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