There, in the middle of the pot, sat a clump of tiny bulbs, sprouting white tips of newness. Beneath the surface, life was resurrecting, and to me, a miracle that had previously been hidden out of sight, was taking place.
I am an ignorant suburban, city dweller. I was never taught the ways of the earth, and if I was, perhaps in grade and high school, it meant nothing to me, because food wasn't something my family grew in the garden, food was something served up to me on a plate, that I didn't have to think about, or contribute to in any way. Plate, knife, fork, food in mouth - what a sad state of affairs, when I think about it now.
I am a budding human being, learning to grow. I am an accidental gardener, schooled as I go. Some people grasp concepts by reading about a subject, I understand experientially, and as I stated a sentence ago, accidentally. Those lily bulbs sprouting threw me for a happy loop, when I discovered them protruding, and readying themselves for their next gorgeous, winter display of purple splendour.
The bulbs were dormant for a time, and I know I risk sounding like a citiot (this word is a combination of city and idiot: put the two together and you get what country folk, call citiots - people that haven't a clue about nature) when I type this way, but hear me out, dear one. Lately, I feel like I am autumn dormant; lately, I feel as though the quiet of nature outside my kitchen sliding doors, wants me to comprehend, that when the cold infiltrates the house, it doesn't mean all growing stops, it means I get to embrace a different pace with less urgency: in other words, dominant doesn't mean dead.
It is a strange thing that with the fall, we feel more sleepy, and lazy like the dying bees that land listlessly, losing their flight strength, and children are made to get up early without the presence of the sun, to go off to school and sit still, or listen attentively, for hours on end. September is a time of cooling, and our bodies respond in kind, but we go against nature in so many ways, that we feel utterly guilty for not being "productive" continually.
What about being fallow? Here is the biblical meaning of the word fallow:
Fallow refers to unplowed, uncultivated, or idle land that has become hard and overgrown, yet holds the potential for a rich harvest once it is broken up and prepared.
The formula can look like this:
1 Rest
2 Break up dry ground that can become hard and packed tightly with weeds
3 Prepare the earth by ploughing
The Bible talks about having childlike faith, and as an adult, I feel as though all that I am learning, is delightfully happening via discovery of the natural world. No one could have prepared me for the ugly truth, that iridescent, stunningly beautiful Japanese beetles, were the life force sucking enemy, for a variety of my precious trees, plants, and garden flowers. Ahhh, the Devil in disguise, showing up as a creature of de-light, makes sense to me in so many ways! I drown hundreds of those beetles this year, seeing them as a detestable, useless nuisance. and annoyance. Die buggy die, is something an old friend said once, when she killed a creepy crawler with a shoe slam, on a hotel wall in Mexico... but I digress.
All of the above, is to say this: true love, always resurrects. The calla lily that was given to me by my childhood best friend at Valentine's last year, went limp and lifeless, and I thought I had somehow killed it with my ignorance. The pot I had replanted it in remained as I had left it, outside, without water, without care. When I decided to plant something new in the very same pot, imagine my surprise to see the sprouting. It makes me weepy to write the metaphor, that while my friendship with my childhood bestie had remained dormant for over a decade, it was resurrected a couple of years ago - it hadn't died, it was just sleeping.
Wherefore he saith, Awake thou that sleepest, and arise from the dead, and Christ shall give thee light (Ephesians 5:14).
Awake, thou that sleepest
Arise from the dead
Christ shall give thee light
Dormant isn't dead... sleepy isn't half gone... love, dear one, always resurrects, with the newness of life everlasting.
May the light that is Christ, awaken your sleepy soul.
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