I'm Discouraged. Suddenly An Iris.

Here’s what I hate: I’m discouraged (again).

I’m sick of waiting.  I’m tired and impatient and ready.  Ready for what?  For things to go my way of course.  For this situation to come to some sort of climax or conclusion.  Anything besides all this waiting.  You’re sick of it too because you are sick of reading about it and reading about it.

Then, God showed me the Irises.

The Iris is one of my favorite flowers: large and lovely, they smell as beautiful as they look and they come in about a million different colors. 

For weeks, I’ve been seeing their long green stalks waving in the cool spring air.  The flat green leaves arrive first as heralds of the coming of their illustrious blooms.  Then—it feels like it happens over night—a brilliant white or purple or yellow or maroon maiden shakes her petals loose after her long sleep.

Suddenly an Iris.

Spring has sprung here in Nashville.  How do I know?  Flowering trees, pollen on my car, and people sneezing all around me.  It’s awesome.

At some point back in early March, we must have had a few warm days.  The sunshine began gently calling to seeds and bulbs and buds across the nation. 

You see, the Iris didn’t actually explode over night, as it would appear to those of us rushing by on the road to school and Target. 

I’m no gardener, but I’m reading The Secret Garden to the girls right now, so I have horticulture on the brain.  This fact, (mixed with junior high science data swimming somewhere in the recesses of my brain), gives me the authority to write to you about this.

As I was saying, the flowers don’t actually sprout up over night.  The bulbs sit dormant all winter with seemingly nothing going on.  (I think that some pretty mysterious awesomeness might be taking place inside the bulb while it rests, but I digress.)  To our eyes above the soil, nothing is happening.

Finally, some insanely strong, green leaves break free from the bulb and journey up through the soil in search of the sun.  They are not seeking glory or fame—they are seeking food and warmth.  That’s all they need.

When they find it, they are filled to the brim and begin the process of budding at the tip of their tallest stalk.  Again, I don’t know the details of how it all happens, but eventually the green gives way to another color all together and one glorious flower eventually appears.

What I do know is that all of this takes time.

And what I do know is that my heart has been sitting beneath the soil of this season of waiting.   To me, it seems like nothing is going on, but perhaps some mysterious awesomeness is taking place inside my heart as it rests.  

I have to hope that at some point, some strong stems of faith will begin to break free from my heart and journey up through the dirt in search of the son.  Not seeking what I want, but only seeking Him—finding complete warmth and fulfillment in God alone.  He is all I need.

Perhaps at some point, I will be filled to the brim and some beautiful flower will be the result of all this waiting and growing.  Maybe you’ll get to see it weather my house sells or not.   

I may be discouraged by how LONG this process is taking, but I have a feeling that the “flower” we are waiting for is not necessarily the sale of our house…it may have something to do with building character and hope.  I wish I could say I was more excited about it. 

However, I am excited that I do have Someone to turn to in all of this discouragement. God is faithful.  He brings me joy and Irises and miraculous love even though I am beyond impatient. 

Isaiah 40:31 

Yet those who wait for the Lord
Will gain new strength;
They will mount up with wings like eagles,
They will run and not get tired,
They will walk and not become weary.

Romans 5:3-4

³ And not only this, but we also exult in our tribulations, knowing that tribulation brings aboutperseverance; ⁴ and perseverance, proven character; and proven character, hope;