Spiritual Thought - Dec 25

December 26
I loved living in cold climates and planting tulips.  It was the best to see those first signs of spring when the tulips would bloom.  I also remember the first year I cut all the ugly yellow leaves off not knowing that I was killing the bulbs and my future tulips.  At the close of this year, a talk from Virginia Hinckley Pearce comes to mind.   Below is an excerpt from her article, “Allowing Time For Change” where she shares a valuable lesson she learned from her tulips.

"I stepped out into the backyard last night just as evening began to settle.  Here they were en masse, stems pointing naked stamens into the air without their beautiful petal dresses.  And next thing you know, they will have all of those yellowing leaves!  What to do!

I was just considering this tedious solution to my in-between garden, when I was overwhelmed with nature’s metaphor.  Nature doesn’t work with on-off switches, or at continuously high RPMs.  Nature is organic.  It cycles, it flows. There is an ebb for every tide, a time or retreat and gathering of strength for every time of flowering.  This continuous ebb and flow is vital in order to renew the energy required for a continuing cycle of life.  And when it is interrupted, when leaves are cut before they can become unsightly, the process is short-circuited.  The bulb weakens and cannot produce the next season. 
I sat down on the grass. Here was something for me.  I have trouble with accepting the need  for downtime.  I want to be a continuous switch, a peak producer with no valleys.  I want relationships that get better continuously; I want to make continuous improvement myself with no temporary backsliding.  I want to be able to jump up the minute after I am kicked in the stomach.  I just don’t want to allow time to recover and take in strength.  I want to be a non-stop flowering wonder.

I looked at the tulips.  And then I looked at myself and this world.  It doesn’t make any sense.  What are we thinking?  Instant and relentless isn’t the way of eternity.  I’ve always wondered about the phrase “long-suffering.”  At first glance it seems to indicate that being miserable for a long period of time is some kind of virtue to seek after.  I don’t think so! Then what could it mean? Perhaps “suffering” in this phrase could be interpreted to mean “allowing,” as in “suffer the little children.”  Perhaps the Lord sees “allowing time, and allowing a long time” as a sorely needed virtue.
Could we allow ourselves time to recover from periods of difficulty – time to grieve, time to heal, time to gather strength?

I looked at the tulip leaves again, beginning to yellow and wilt, and saw them differently.  I can respectfully allow them some time.  In fact, I can celebrate while I wait with them.  My garden will gently call to those who walk by, “Pardon us, but good things are happening.  We are gathering nourishment and preparing quietly for more glory.”

At the close of this year, we should allow ourselves some time to renew, recharge and recover.  Great things are ahead of us; take some time to gather nourishment and prepare for more glory in the coming year.