The Chrysanthemum and the Crocus

Does the chrysanthemum envy the crocus? While the spring sun comes out and brings the crocus to life and color, the chrysanthemum remains dormant.  It is not yet its season.

I have a “crocus” in my life and while I wait and pray and hope and watch, the sun’s rays are shining down on her, blessings and favor pouring out on her like spring showers.  Some would look at a friend’s fortune and think, “Why are they so lucky? Or loved? Or special?” -  which is just one quick, slippery step from “Why am I so unloved? Has God forgotten or forsaken me?”

To you, I offer this perspective: We all have our seasons – our “springs” when we feel full of life and hope, our “summers” when God feels so close and all seems right in our world, and also the “winters” when we have little but a meager faith in promises as yet unseen.  It is the grace and divine timing of God that we don’t all experience the same season at the same time.

One of the reasons it is important to have others to grow with is to remind ourselves that God is the same, no matter what season I am currently in.  I may struggle with doubt and fear during my “winter” until I see the hand of God at work in my “crocus” friend.  I may not feel the warmth of His rays but I see evidence of His unchanging character and ways, still bringing the dormant to life in His time.

So, do not envy the crocus…be encouraged by it. 

 

And to you, Crocus – do not hold back in fear of making us Mums feel bad.   Bloom to your fullest in all of your wonderful color to restore in us the hope of our own spring.

There is Hope in 2013

At the beginning of the New Year, I typically wonder, with a mix of excitement and trepidation, what the coming year will bring.  Recent tragedies can cause us to wonder what is in store for our families, communities, world – an easy path to fear and hopelessness.  And then, I remember the roses…

I admit I am a creature of habit and ritual, one of which is to always stop at a particular rose bush on my jogging route and bury my face into one of its newly opened blooms, inhaling as deeply as my lungs will allow.  This little ceremony has led me to coin the phrase, “As long as the rose is fragrant, there is hope in the world.”

Despite the, at times, overwhelming evidence that our world is rapidly hurtling toward its destruction, the rose reminds me that we are not forsaken.  My hypothesis has been that if God still cares enough to place a drop of beauty in the smell of a flower or a color in the sunset sky, then surely, He has a plan for the rest of it.

In the last couple of years, having worked with dozens of people with clinical depression, I’ve become more convinced than ever of the intricate detail of God’s master design.   To oversimplify the vastness of the human brain, certain chemicals, such as dopamine, that improve mood and cause us to feel happy and content are released by certain sounds, colors, smells, and tastes.  Ironically demonstrating the point, the very moment I was reading online about the connection between music and dopamine release, my four-year-old son crawled up in my lap with my phone, found a song with a Celtic flute playing, and immediately went limp with a contented sigh!

My new hypothesis goes something like this: God, in His wisdom, foresight, and loving care, knew that life would carry its burdens and griefs;  He knew that evil would rise at times and try to convince us there is no hope for humanity or our world. And so, He strategically placed certain sights, smells, tastes, and sounds within creation as natural antidepressants.  This is my definition of “beauty” – that which calls to me, draws me in, and speaks to me of hope…or scientifically, those things that particularly cause a release of dopamine in my brain.

Hope is out there for those who recognize and embrace it.  During those times when you are feeling low, depressed, or hopeless, remember to light that candle, turn on that favorite CD, and, most especially, always stop to smell the roses.