In my yard, there is a red bud tree. It’s knotty and sparse from years. At this time of year, it’s going barren, and it’s branches dangle with seed pods that look like dried up, unshelled peas. I think she’s beautiful.
In the spring, before anything else is blooming except the daffodils below her, she will turn a brilliant purple from tiny blossoms that grow directly from her woody stems.
But now, at this time of year, she is a little haggard and worn looking. It will take months of rest – I wonder if she thinks of it as waiting – for the beauty to return again.
I feel much like that tree – worn down by months of production, tired, dried up a bit. I’m quick to anger and tender of heart. Words cut me deep and easy these days.
Many things have built this weariness in me – the farm, the book, the election, the looming anniversary of Mom’s death. But here’s what I know, in time, life will bloom again.
My role, in this time of quiet, is to do the work before me. I have gotten some amazing feedback on my manuscript, so today, I go back to it after two deliberate weeks away. I have some structural changes to make, and some more specific edits to add. I feel the energy building for this project again – the time away and dormant has been healing and clarifying.
This afternoon, I will drive through the tree nursery with my dad as we pick out trees for the farm. We have some privacy screens to put in, and beds of evergreen and nandina to lay out. Plus, soon, we start to build my barn for concerts and animals. The dream is coming together.
This morning, I read from Genesis about Abram and God’s promise to bring a great nation from him. Like me, Abram could not wait to see that happen, so he “made it happen,” using Sarai’s slave Hagar to father his child. I cannot help but wonder if God sighed in that moment – realizing that now things would be so much more complicated because of Abram’s impatience.
So I am reminded that much of obedience is waiting. Like the red bud. Resting and dormant until she blasts glorious with purple.
What are you waiting to see, learn, heal?Buffer