Reflections by Rev. Joanne Anquist
Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow: they neither toil nor spin; 29 and yet I say to you that even Solomon in all his glory was not [c]arrayed like one of these. (Matthew 6:28b,29)
I love peonies. Big bold flowers that smell delicious and look marvelous. When Dave and I lived in Toronto, we had a peony bush that flowered twice in the summer – once early Spring, once closer to Fall.
Last year, we wanted to do a little garden beside our patio and I insisted that we plant peony bushes. I knew we weren’t likely to get a double budding season in Calgary, but I was looking so forward to those big, bright blooms that always bring a smile to my heart. We planted four. Unfortunately, the bushes were too small and there were no buds last year. I had been warned that it might be another year before we got any significant flowering. But I remembered that bush in Toronto, and I held on to hope that maybe this year they would bloom.
I also planted hollyhocks last year – they are my second favorite flower. We put them up near our shed against a fence in soil that wasn’t that great. My mother says hollyhocks grow in poor soil, like that found in alleyways, so I was hopeful they would take root. Again, I was warned that it might not be until this year that they bloomed since they are biennial.
Surprisingly, the hollyhocks bloomed last year and brought so much colour to a drab area. The peonies did not. This year, I was excited to see what we would have. I expected the hollyhocks would rise to the occasion and bloom once again, and maybe, if the weather cooperated, we’d get some peonies too.
As it turned out, some little animal really enjoyed the hollyhocks and there was no sign of them this spring – not even a sprout. The peonies on the other hand, began to bud. I waited in anticipation for them to bloom, thinking one or two would be enough. Every day I would check the bloom, see if it was ready, trust that in it’s time it would burst forth. The gardeners in the family faithfully watered them (from the rain barrel when the water restrictions were announced). They were trimmed to encourage growth (apparently that’s a thing!) Would it bloom? Did it ever! We treated the first bloom to open it’s petals like the first dollar you get in a restaurant you just started. We snipped it off and put it in a bowl with water. I was not prepared for how big this bud would get and the beauty it would bring to our table. Here’s a picture of it (it’s about 8 inches across the bowl, just for reference!)
Unfortunately, Dave was a bit too eager to get the one big flower and he accidentally cut off four other buds in the process. We put those in water and set them in the sun hoping they would also bloom. The peony bushes have not disappointed me. They are still budding and blooming and they give me great joy every day. Here’s a picture of the little patch of peonies, and the vase with the buds that were prematurely cut. They are valiantly blooming and inspiring me as they do.
We don’t know what the future holds. Sometimes the hollyhocks we planted and hoped to enjoy are choked out or swallowed. All we have is a memory of what was. Other times, we watch in hope, knowing that nothing is guaranteed, but clinging to a promise of new life. Sometimes life is lived in the past, with pictures of what was, and we try to capture it again and again. Sometimes we make mistakes that mean an adjustment to our expectations! Sometimes we fret about the future – will this seed I planted take root, will this or that bud blossom into something beautiful. Life is precarious at the best of times. But God has promised that life will prevail, that love wins. In the end, we live for those moments when we know that life is unfolding in it’s time and in it’s way and God is good, no matter what.
God of peonies and hollyhocks, of anticipation and disappointment, of life and death and struggle, thank you for the reminders that we are called to live in hope. When what we dreamed of falls away, comfort us and give us resilience to continue. When what we hoped for begins to blossom, give us strength to nurture the fragile beginning. And when we see the glory of god displayed in the simplest way, may we stop and wonder in grace and gratitude. Amen