“Are you going to blog about this?” It’s not uncommon for my husband to ask this question when something funny or noteworthy or catastrophic happens around our home. He’s got a pretty good sense of humor and he’s really a good sport about letting me share his successes and an equal number of embarrassments with my friends that live in the computer.
Just last night on the way out the door to church, a glance at the tulips trying to come to life in our yard, prompted a conversation about blog-worthiness. You see, about a month and half ago, past all of the suggested dates that I had researched and against my advice, Mike planted tulip bulbs in the ground. While I was truly pleasantly surprised that he would go to the trouble to pick out bulbs, get a bulb planter, dig and get dirty, just so that I could have my favorite flower sprout in my own yard, I was still a little skeptical. I mean, he was planting them way too late; surely they wouldn’t actually take root and grow? I’ve been a bit of a doubting Thomas, telling Mike that the project hasn’t really been a success until I actually see a real flower.
As often happens in these normal, everyday moments, God speaks. How many times, have I, as a believer, failed to do something, failed to answer a call, and ignored the urging of the Holy Spirit because I’m not sure what the outcome will be? Rather, I should say because I’m not sure that the outcome will be what I want it to be. I won’t be satisfied with anything but the most gorgeous, fully bloomed flowers, and can’t accept that maybe my role is just to get my hands dirty, dig the hole and plant the seed. I place too much importance on my role and not enough importance on the role of the Creator. I suspect that I’m not the only one guilty of focusing solely on the end result and missing my opportunity to be a part of all of the little steps that it takes to get there.
So here we are, at the end of March, with about 4 inches of tulip leaves popping through the earth and tightly closed buds, revealing just a hint of what color these tulips will be, forming. Mike is pretty excited and keeps asking, “Are you going to blog about this?” And you know what, I will. Because even if those leaves are all I get, I’ll be content. Whether I enjoy tulips in my yard this year, or someone who lives here ten years from now enjoys them, there will be tulips, I’m sure of it. The bulbs have been planted, the rain has come and the sun has shone, and those bulbs will soon be beautiful flowers.
But if you see my husband, please don’t tell him that I said he was right…