First day of spring

I've been reading on the news and in my email about all the violence and destruction in the world. Fighting has started again in Darfur, trapping at least 8,000 refugees in the middle of it. My 40daysforLife email included the testimony of a woman whose daughter died because of a faulty abortion. The assualts on life are so varied, but they're all disturbing and in their own way devastating. Sometimes it seems like a miracle that even one of us manages to live. So I take comfort in the coming of Spring. The message of Spring is that life is persistent. There is hidden energy and vitality in the most basic forms of life that survives not only intentional destruction, but also clumsy attempts to help.

Take these crocuses for instance. I transplanted them last year with the help of a three-year-old and a four-year-old who had never worked with plants in their lives. We were all rather rough on the bulbs, which also endured a lot of neglect this past summer because I had morning sickness and wasn't really worrying about watering my plants. So imagine my joy when I looked out Monday morning and found them blooming whole-heartedly.

The same goes for this pot, which actually has garlic in it! I found a couple cloves of garlic sprouting in my vegetable drawer last spring, so I stuck them in a pot to see what would come of them. Nothing did, and I was convinced that I'd killed them, but I left them be, and loe and behold, I have the beginnings of an herb garden. The tulips beneath the recycling bin are once again making their startling appearance. Last year they ate their way through three layers of cardboard to make their debut. This year I intervened a little earlier, but they were doing fine without me. I guess with all of this life bursting forth, there's even hope for my bleeding heart bush. I really thought I'd killed this one because I hammered it with a stunning combination of abuse and neglect, failing to water it appropriately but digging around its roots just the same, not to mention putting it in such an unappropriate location (bleeding heart bushes need shade). About the middle of August it started dying. I was certain I'd killed it. But here it is, slowly coming back. See the tiny little pink leaves? It's so encouraging to see nature doing what nature does best: grow. Life is so resilient. It has power behind it. As we go higher, life seems to get more delicate, or perhaps attempts at destruction become more deliberate, and yet we really do survive so much. The grace of God will not let us perish entirely.