We have just come out of a typical cool, dry winter and when it should have rained in the seasons before, it did not. The land is parched, the drought is for real, the wind blows dust into our eyes and onto every surface in our houses and the sound of rain on our tin roof is a distant memory.
All that said, there is a blooming going on here that cannot be ignored or denied. Where vegetation has become dry and brittle with very little to show for itself, there is now an explosion of colour in the bush, on the roadsides and in people’s gardens; and it is not because of water, of that we can be sure.
A friend popped in to collect a book this week, and brought, with her, some garden roses just for me. “They’re in full bloom at the moment,” she said and I have been marvelling (and moving them from room to room so that I can see them as often as possible) that such beauty has been produced during a famine. There they are, several stems in a white earthen vase; one intricate yellow face beaming across the room, ballerinas pirouetting all crimson and dramatic and plush cerise ball gowns turned upside down in the gayest of dances. A riot of colour; merriment itself, suddenly there on the wooden coffee table where there was nothing before.
Could it be that blooming occurs, not because of the rain, but in anticipation of the rain? Perhaps God, so kind to reveal Himself to us through His creation, is giving us a clue on how to move forward when times are tough.
When we feel that maybe we aren’t going to make it – thirsty and weak from persevering, dehydrated from lack of refreshing, tired of standing under a cloudless sky – it’s time! There are abilities, creations, gifts and fragrances within us that are stirring after a long slumber. When the trial has gone on and on and we feel that the dream is dying or the opportunity is lost, just maybe we are capable of a smile for a dying world, like my yellow rose. Just maybe He can use us to turn things around.
Like the blooming going on in our natural world, we can burst into action, shine and reveal our true colours even as the surroundings are telling us it won’t work, it’s not sustainable and the timing is off.
How bold! What courage. My heart is stirred to bring forth something more than I feel I am capable of. If the trees and bushes can put on a show when we would forgive them for wilting instead, then I have no excuse.
And this is not about striving, friends. This is about roots; the hidden fundamentals, the foundations, the good choices. This is also very much about abiding. Blooming and fruitfulness is part of the package when we live connected to the Vine. In and of ourselves, we cannot even stand, but connected to Him we become a channel of vibrancy, hope and life. In Him we live and move and have our being (Acts 17 v 28). In Him we bloom.
It’s more about being in position and availing ourselves and less about huge attempts to make things happen. When we are true to ourselves and to the One who made us, we play our part to make things beautiful and to make things right. We dig deep and give of our best instead of allowing self pity to ruin the day. This is when we say, “I do not agree that it’s all over. I will not partner with that theme.”
And who knows, just maybe in the mystery of it all, it’s the blooming season that ushers in the rain and not the other way round, as we might have thought.
And I pray that you, being rooted and established in love, may have power, together with all the Lord’s holy people, to grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ, and to know this love that surpasses knowledge – that you may be filled to the measure of all the fullness of God. (Ephesians 3 v 17-19)
I am the vine; you are the branches. If you remain in me and I in you, you will bear much fruit; apart from me you can do nothing. (John 15 v 5)
See! The winter is past; the rains are over and gone. Flowers appear on the earth; the season of singing has come, the cooing of doves is heard in our land. The fig tree forms its early fruit; the blossoming vines spread their fragrance. Arise, come, my darling; my beautiful one, come with me. (Song of Songs 2 v 11 – 13)
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