I was startled when I saw it yesterday.

It was a mundane circumstance for those without eyes to appreciate it.

But my heart quickened many beats. God whispered, calling me to see something more profound than this mundane object. Would I have ears to hear? Did I have time to listen? Was I too busy to notice?

Here’s what happened.

At least ten years ago, I decided to plant two lilac bushes.

My husband encouraged me to plant the lilac bushes in our yard because they are my favourite flower. I love lilacs because they confidently fill the air with their scent. You can smell them from a distance.

Because of Christ, we give off a sweet scent rising to God

The Message

They are the only flowers I have planted in our twelve years of living in this house.

Unfortunately, I made a classic mistake when I planted them. I planted them at the edge of our lawn, where two lovely bare spots were in the grass. I found out later that these two spots were bare because our automatic sprinklers didn’t reach that far.

I watered these plants by hand once or twice and then forgot about them.

Every spring, I (perhaps pathetically) mourned these lilacs, thinking I wish I would have loved on them, poured into them and helped them get established. When I drove past our neighbour’s wall of  lilac bushes this spring, I was startled at their beauty and again mourned that my  lilac bushes had died. I didn’t get around to buying more lilac bushes and planting them again.

And then last week I saw it.

One little lilac blooming in the exact place where I had planted that lilac bush over a decade ago. 

God seemed to whisper that we are like this lilac blooming.

Huh?

I stared at the lilac, trying to figure out if God was speaking and what he could possibly be saying through the life of this flower.

My mind wandered a bit as I stood staring at the lilac, waiting. I found myself impatient for next year. “This small flower, on an established plant, ushers in hope for more flowers next year and even more the year after that!” I found myself thinking.

And this is what I am saying to you, God seemed to whisper.

Where I had thought there was death, God was silently, patiently growing life. And my pathetic, misguided gardening efforts were enough for the master gardener to redeem. The lilac’s foliage blended with the background foliage of the nearby leaves, so I hadn’t noticed the bush was still alive.

Do you feel hope rising?

How is God growing hope in you?

What do you need hope for? How may God be offering you hope? Can we use the hidden winter season to store hope deep in our roots, waiting for spring to blossom?

That was God’s message to me last season.

He had asked me to plant, and to establish a habit in my life that would eventually bear fruit.

I’ll explain next time.

But today, my arm is outstretched to you. Here’s some hope, friend. What step of faith is God asking you to take?