In Due Season

Several years ago, I'd impulsively planted some Caladium bulbs in the raised bed on my patio. The plants came in beautifully, and I enjoyed their cheerful green and pink foliage all summer long. I was quite sad when they didn't come back in the following spring; a few minutes of quick research showed me they are annuals in my part of the country, not perennials, as I had assumed. *sigh*

I moved on, have tried several other somethings in the bed over the past few years; the results have been pretty enough. But part of my brain remembered the lush beauty of the Caladium plants, so this spring, I went ahead and got a new pack of bulbs to plant. At least I could enjoy them for the season.

I diligently read the package instructions and waited until mid-May to plant the bulbs; it's supposed to be warm enough for them by then. I went outside every morning for the next few weeks, eagerly anticipating the sight of the shoots springing from the earth.

I waited in vain. Despite frequent watering, the bed remained barren with no signs of life. I had given up all hope by the end of June. We had a rainy and damp spring - I figured I'd planted too soon, and my flowers had been lost to the vagaries of the weather. Maybe next year.

And then.
And then. 

I was sitting in my porch swing, dolefully looking over the dormant bed, when I spotted a tiny furl of green. Could it be? I hopped off the swing for a closer look. It could be! One of the bulbs had survived the odds, defiantly pushing its way from the earth, reaching for the light. Yay!!! 

I knew its victory would be short-lived during these hot days of July if I didn't start caring for it, so ran inside for my watering can and gave it a drink. Just for grins, I ran a line of water down the entire front of the bed, hoping despite the odds that perhaps one more of the bulbs had survived.

Odds aren't everything. Over the past three weeks, all but two of the bulbs have poked their heads through the soil to greet the sun. I've made sure to keep them watered; my heart lifts just a little and I smile as I tend to them each morning.

I'm hearing a message for my soul in their presence. I have grown weary of this long season of waiting; of trying to be present in my liminal space. The flowers are a reminder that I am not the boss of the timing of the seasons of my life. There are forces I don't fully understand at work. 

Maybe, just maybe, I'm not JUST waiting. Maybe, all the things I've been trying to do to discern my next best direction haven't fallen on barren soil. Maybe, things are germinating in the darkness during these warm summer days, forming and changing and stirring and beginning to grow. 

I'd like that.

In the meantime, while I wait to see if my metaphor is apt, you know I'm going to be enjoying the beauty of my Caladium plants - all the more welcome because they worked so hard to get here; definitely worth waiting for.