Over seven years ago, when we were just settled into our little home, we noticed a strange looking plant growing in the bare flower bed along the brick wall on our front porch. It was tiny and green and fan-like. It was probably a weed. It was unsightly and odd. My first instinct was to yank it out.
My husband thought better. After examining it, he suggested that it might be fun to see what it grew into. It most definitely wasn't a weed. Maybe an onion. Or a flower. He wanted to give it some time.
I reluctantly agreed, thinking that we may end up with an onion patch on our front porch, stinking up the neighborhood.
It took several years, but one early spring morning, we noticed a shoot. Soon after, there were buds. They grew and turned purple. Finally, one perfect morning, a beautiful iris bloomed. Now, a few years later, we have a purple-hued array of irises every spring. The blooms are delicate and only last a little while, but they are splendid when they arrive. Mother Nature's testament to new life, a perfect reminder of Easter. New life. Resurrection. A hope in better things to come.
I can't help but think about my little slow growing flower bed and how it relates to life. So often, things come up that seem odd, bothersome, unexpected. My instinct is to rip them out. Fix the problem. Make drastic changes.
My husband knows better. He is the patient one. The one who sees the flowers in the small green shoots.
So often, the better solution is to let changes come. Give them time. Let them grow. Work with what is given and be content. The weeds and problems that I see today aren't always weeds. Frequently, they turn into the beautiful irises of tomorrow.
I am grateful for a loving Heavenly Father who knows what each little seedling can become. A Father who plants unexpected things in our path. In our own challenges and struggles, may we all grow and see the beauty, and the divine potential, that is in each of our lives.