I studied the dormant bulb in my hand. “Is this how God perceives me?”
An unresponsive mass marking time forsaking His bidden relief.
I planted the tuber deep in the ground in a hole dug just the right size.
I covered it over and put it to bed to await the rays of its first sunshine.
Haven’t I done the same with my life? I dug my own pit and jumped in.
I piled on self-pity, grief, and despair. I buried my pain under sorrow and sin.
Am I destined to live out my days in this grave – breathing, yet lifeless inside?
Will my tortured soul languish in agonizing death? Will this sorrow be my demise?
With prospects of blooming grandeur, a sliver of hope burst through the ground,
A tiny green stem searching for light, a promised blossom meant to abound.
Then in morning’s first glimpse, I heard His voice calling me to reach for the light.
“Child, My promises are true, my mercies are new. Come now and give up the fight.
“Do you see the lilies dressed in the fields? They toil not, nor do they spin.
If I do this for the flowers, understand, Child, you’re worth far more than them.
“Arise, My love, My beautiful one. Come with Me and find your rest.
The rains are over. Your dark nights are done. Bloom now.
“Your long winter is past.”
