Consider the Magnolias

Arkansas winters can be erratic and this year was no different. Warm days arrived at random too soon and gloomy, frost-laden days followed. We had just moved back home from southern Louisiana and those icy days were both welcome and felt foreboding. And then one day the vibrant deep pink magnolia in our front yard bloomed.

My husband, Scott, said it was too soon. He knows these things. I didnt even know what kind of tree it was with my brown thumb. I just know I loved looking out from our window in the grey-brown landscape dry and hungry to see that vivid blooming tree ripe and lush and full of the promise of spring. And then the frost came again and the Jane Magnolia couldnt withstand the cold.

She had, indeed, bloomed too early.

I am in transition. Woman, interrupted. I took a leap and moved. Now there feels this distinct pause between the jump of a move and the landing into whats next. I am at once ready to bloom and to remain as is forever. But, mostly am yearning like that Jane Magnolia to begin the new season in great splendor. But, God often has plans that look entirely different.

Theres a mercy God gives us He holds us back.

Its an active waiting. Its a waiting that depends on our patience and His efforts. It is Him working and carving, refining and redefining to ensure we dont bloom too soon. Its His hand smoothing and strengthening so that when we bloom we are stout enough to stand for the season. A season we know nothing about. A season He knows everything about.

Its easy to look at the others and wonder when your blooming will come. But, like the different flowers filling my new yard, there is a season for each of them.

Daffodils arent longing to be magnolias and wildflowers arent in therapy angry they arent azaleas. Dogwoods arent lamenting the life of a pine that could have been.

I dont know what was planted here in this new yard or when. Its a funny thing. When we arrived it was entirely barren looking and still beautiful. We were told the hill behind our home is littered with the former residents favorite flowers so that she could sit in her living room and see her favorite things. I have no idea when these flowers will bloom. And I have no idea what they will look like when they do.

I do know this: someone else planted them and Ill enjoy the benefit of their beauty shortly.

There are so many lessons in these turns of season and methods of growth. Gods word reminds us that the lilies dont toil but are clothed in more splendor than a magnificent and wealthy king. And as I wait, as I fight and yield, fight and then yield again to the Fathers ever-molding hands, Im reminded that to bloom too early is to pay a grave price.

Im reminded that I dont know whats coming next. Im reminded that a barren hill now doesnt mean a barren hill always. Im reminded that to do the right thing often means planting trees for the next generation. Doing right means working so that someday there will be sweeping patches of shade for a people you will never meet.

Its now a day after the first official day of spring and the Jane Magnolia has blooms again so vivid. Not as plentiful or hearty as the first time just weeks ago. But, bit-by-bit shes returning. Even the frost couldnt destroy her entirely.