The Blessing of the Blossom

I'm a Southern lady.  Born and raised in the backwoods of North Florida, I grew up on a dirt road where honeysuckles bloomed and blackberries grew wild for the picking.  Our tea is as sweet as maple syrup, and flour is a kitchen staple for biscuits and gravy making.  I still live here in the deep South and would like to paint a picture of my life here.  

First, family is everything.  Here in the deep South, family includes not just your mom, dad, and siblings, but a multitude of extended family (grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins, in-laws, etc.).  You always take care of family.  And neighbors.  Where I'm from, neighbors include everyone who lives within a five mile radius of your home.  And if they move away, they don't lose neighbor status.  For your neighbors, you ride over whenever to just have a good visit.  You're there when they've had a birth or a death in the family.  You make dinner for them when they're sick.  And they do the same for you.

The opportunity to go to church is everywhere, because right here in the Bible belt, we have a church on every corner.  Today, the thought also occurred to me that I had enjoyed church three times.  My home church, Northside Assembly of God (in person), Elevation Church, and Free Chapel (both via YouTube livestream).  The message of Jesus is out there everywhere if you're open to hear it.  But here at home, Sunday church is a must.  Especially at Easter and Christmas.

Now, let's talk about the weather.  We experience mainly two seasons in the deep South-summer and winter.  Spring shows up for about a week (two if we're lucky) and then the inevitable eighty degree humidity that melts your clothes to your body shows up in full force until late December.  Our "winter" also consists of a very humid climate and lasts approximately for the month of January.  This year, we have experienced colder weather in February, too, and I've enjoyed getting to wear sweaters that don't make it out of my closet often.  

Now, my favorite season is spring.  I love seeing everything turn green again, the flowers bloom, baby animals are born, and life is renewed.  Unfortunately for me, spring weather doesn't last long here, so I savor every cool morning that turns into a pleasant afternoon.  One sure sign of spring in the South is the blooming of the azalea bushes.  Azaleas are an evergreen flowering bush with blossoms usually revealing themselves in April around Easter.  They seem to flourish in this humid region, so you can find one in just about every yard you pass. I have tons of Easter pictures in front of these beautiful bushes with their pink or white blooms.  We've picked them and placed them tenderly in a glass of water as a makeshift bouquet for my mom, grandmother, or great-grandmother.

Here's the thing about azaleas, though-they don't flower after spring.  The weather gets too hot and they just can't bloom.  The leaves don't die and stay green, but the colorful blossoms fall to the ground until next spring when they can bloom again.  At least, that's what I thought. 

An anomaly occurred in our yard last year.  Yes, THAT year...2020.  I realized sometime in June that there were azaleas blooming.  Now, there weren't many. Maybe one or two. But it was enough to give me pause.  How was this happening? Our yard is full of azalea bushes and they've never done this before.  The Bible says, "The earth is the Lord's and the fullness thereof" (Psalm 24:1).  In a not-so-subtle way, Holy Spirit reminded me that God is in control of even the growth of flowers.  So He can quiet my heart and mind in a pandemic. Azaleas made their odd appearances throughout the rest of the year.

Then, in September, we lost our dear friend and pastor.  This loss has been devastating and we are still grieving for our Pastor Chuck.  The day after he entered Heaven, another anomaly happened.  You see, while I so appreciate the beauty of flowers, growing them is not my gift.  I have often made the joke that I have a "black thumb" instead of a green one and that plants come to my house to die.  Such was the case for the lantana that graced our entryway flowerbed.  It was the end of summer, and most of the plants had become dried up sticks.  I walked out of our house on September 8 and happened to notice one of these "sticks" had suddenly bloomed into a bundle of bright yellow.  In that moment, I knew God was revealing His beauty in the ashes of my grief and brokenness.  There was still life.  

Now, in February, another anomaly has taken place.  We lost our friend and neighbor this week.  Henry Leavins was a good friend, especially to Lyndon, and we have done what we can to comfort his family in this time of sudden loss.  And this week, several azaleas have bloomed in my yard. Beauty for ashes. The glory of God revealed on earth.  A reminder that there is life.  

I'm so grateful for my upbringing.  It's a privilege to be a girl raised in the South.  As I sit tucked under a fleece blanket because it's fifty degrees outside (quite chilly), I love thinking back on growing up.  The small blessings of honeysuckles and blackberries remind me to find the joy in the simplicity of life. The blessing of the blossoms reminds me that God is in control of this life.  And in spite of weather and environment, He stoops to make a flower bloom just when I need reminding that beauty is still here.  Growth can still occur.  Life goes on.  I challenge you, friend, to find the beauty.  God will reveal Himself to you through the fullness of the earth.  That's the blessing of the blossom. 

© Jill Cook and Unbroken & Undone Ministries. All rights reserved.