Do you ever feel like you're a plant trying to sprout? You've done the hard work of making it through winter. You start to sprout in the spring only to find it's not as warm as you'd like. The sun isn't quite warm enough for you yet. Or maybe you feel the enormous set back of a late frost. You wish you could go back into your little tiny seed and hide away from the cold, but you want to bloom oh so bad. You want to grow. To stretch up toward the sun. To bring life and beauty to the world. And leave your touch and legacy. Is that you? A little seed trying so hard to sprout and grow. Trying to break free from the confines of your seed. Yearning to become.
I think if we are honest, it's quite a few of us. We feel like we are right on the edge of the new beginning. The new growing season. Whether it's the cabin fever from what feels like an unending quarantine or the slow wet spring we've had, I'm itching to GROW. It's as if I've been dormant for a season. I'm so ready to feel the fulfillment that comes from change and growth. The excitement of the journey. The feeling of being simply alive.
Each year spring is a reminder of the perfection of growth. The speed of spring changes year to year yet everything grows just perfectly when it is meant too. As the mountains cloak themselves in emeralds and the world fills with the melodious chorus of fauna, I stop to wonder how this can happen flawlessly each year? How the flowers grow just when the bees wake up. And how the leaves seemingly grow to greet the arrival of birds. It reminds me that my dormant season of winter had its purpose and yet how perfectly timed my spring season of growth arrives. Not lacking in blessing that makes the journey beautiful.
It sometimes seems as though this season waits for us to be perfectly equipped for it. It allows us to be enthusiastic about the upcoming season of growth. It waits to make sure that we've made peace with our dormancy. That our determination has been perfectly paired with confidence to create a most potent life force. It gives us opportunities that remind us just how hardy we are. Within this list of perfection we realize everything we needed to grow was already inside us to begin with, just waiting for the perfect timing of spring.
The month of May gives us the opportunity to ask the world a question; may I? May I sprout? May I grow? May I bloom? May I break out of my tiny little seed? May I grow to the best that I can be? May I help the world? May I bring the beauty that was given unto me? May I stretch towards the sun? May I realize all my dreams can come true? May I help? May I provide? May I be what I was created to be? Half these questions the little seed asks the world and yet the other half it asks itself.
So what if you asked? What if you said "I'm ready to bloom, may I?" What if you looked at the dreams you have and said "May I have that?" What if all it took was just asking? Asking to receive what you were so clearly made to steward. What if everything you wanted was just waiting for its rightful heir to come and obtain it? And what if that's you? What if the world told the seed that spring starts today? What if the earth whispered to the seed and said "You may."
While the earth covers itself in a gown of florals with effortless ease, remember the hard shells the seeds broke through to grow. When the orchards smell of fragrant bliss, remember that the honey bees make the harvest possible. While you see the shimmering fields that blow in the wind, remember the plows that broke the earth underneath them. Remember that as we look on the creation of spring that seems to happen so effortlessly, the world is always busy at work to make it happen.
As we welcome this exquisite season of new beginnings and growth, don't forget the work that must happen. The breaking open of the hard shell of the seed. Pushing up through the dirt. Being brave enough to open your new leaves to the sun. Having the valor to grow and take up a sacred space. And then, the most crucial moment of all, having the courage to bloom.