We hold within us the potential to bloom again.
During my years of teaching young children, several times I have engaged them in the activity of planting tulip bulbs. The activity facilitates the essential understanding that all living things grow and change over time. The children are able to see and feel the tulip bulb, but they must place their trust in me as teacher to think that it will become a flower someday. They believe my words, that within the unseen part of the bulb there is life and energy. Young children are just beginning to experience seasonal changes. With time they will understand the waiting out of winter and the joy of observing growth in the spring . I can only show them a picture of what may result from our planting. They believe what I tell them is true. The unlikely bulb will result in a beautiful flower at the end of our long, cold winter.
Each of us at some point experiences an uprooting and re- planting in the fall. We have been dug up and transplanted; taken out of soil that was once comfortable. Our circumstances find us buried in unfamiliar ground. We don’t know what we will become. We wonder, “What color will I be? How tall will I grow? As I lay dormant, am I really still alive?” The future is intangible in the present. Yet, if I do not allow myself to be re-planted I have no way to ever grow and bloom again. My life energy will eventually be used up and I will wither and rot.
Change whether willed or unwilled makes us ask, “Do I have the potential to bloom again?” It comes down to faith, hope and love in action. Will I choose to believe what is yet to be seen? With the expectation that it will occur, am I willing to I do what I can to secure my vitality out of God’s love for me and my love for him?
My potential to bloom will be related to how well I prepare the soil I am transplanting myself into. Is it an area that receives sufficient light and water? I must dig deep securing safety from frost. Rocks that will impede growth must be removed. Where will I be best protected from winter’s coming danger? The winter may be cold, bitter, dark and long. My choices matter.
I need not fear being transplanted, nor the coming of winter. The master teacher and master gardener are looking out for me. I choose to hold on to faith and hope, and take action in love. I will not be harmed. By my endurance to survive I shall be transformed. Spring will come, and I will exude life and beauty.
Faith is the evidence of what is yet to be seen. Hope, the expectancy of being granted your desire. Love, God’s promise of new life.
1 Corinthians 13:11-13 in The Message bible states it thus:
When I was an infant at my mother’s breast, I gurgled and cooed like any infant. When I grew up, I left those infant ways for good. We don’t yet see things clearly. We’re squinting in a fog, peering through a mist. But it won’t be long before the weather clears and the sun shines bright! We’ll see it all then, see it all as clearly as God sees us, knowing him directly just as he knows us! But for right now, until that completeness, we have three things to do to lead us toward that consummation: Trust steadily in God, hope unswervingly, love extravagantly. And the best of the three is love.
Faith, hope and love; But the greatest of these is love.
May you be still and know, that you are dearly loved by the Master Teacher and Master Gardener. God’s abiding love is your promise of new life no matter how long the winter.