Patience Blossoms

Yesterday was the first day of spring. Thank God.

This past winter has certainly been one filled with turbulence and chaos. A mad rush. A continuous saga of dramatic events. One right after the other. Not all bad of course, but a whirlwind nonetheless. But I really do like the rush of life. I like that about myself in a lot of ways. That spontaneity. Being free-spirited and outgoing. Always looking to the next thing.

Springtime is my favorite season because of the beautiful flowers that bloom each year. No matter how dark and cold the winter was, that hope that spring will come again always pulls me through. Meandering through D.C. during peak cherry blossom week was an absolute delight and relief from the darkness of winter. In all the years that I have lived here, the view of the city blanketed in a soft, warm pink shadow never fails to take my breath away.

However, there is a dark side to spring this year. The beauty of the cherry blossoms does not fully disguise the snowfall D.C. experienced merely a weekend ago. Hidden behind the Smithsonian Castle lies a garden filled with a variety of flowers. One of the greater kept secrets of D.C. is the beautiful magnolia trees that are scattered throughout the city. (Perhaps they are not so secret, but they certainly do not receive the same hype that the cherry blossoms do!)

Magnolia blossoms are much larger and sturdier than cherry blossoms. Not only do they differ in stature, but also in color. Magnolias tend to be a more vibrant and cool-toned pink color than cherry blossoms, and they also tend to bloom for much longer. I personally think they are more grandeur and bolder than cherry blossoms, which is why I dare say that I prefer them over cherry blossoms in some ways. I like their boldness. I like their steadiness in the wind and their eagerness to bloom. Their eagerness to bloom.

I mentioned it snowed here in D.C. about two weeks ago. It came as a shock because the weeks leading up to that dreadful Saturday brought promise of steady spring-like weather. I didn’t believe the weather forecast the night before that it would snow. I wanted so badly for spring that I didn’t even wear a real coat that day when I walked outside.

That being said, so too were the magnolias eager for spring. When I walked through the garden on the first day of spring, I was expecting to see the full, luscious magnolia flowers standing at attention on their branches. However, instead of being met with a vibrant cool-toned pink breath of life, I was faced with dark burgundy shriveled up flakes that were once petals. The poor magnolias. How sad it was to see the sign of their excitement for spring. How sad to think that the first glimpse of warmth would condemn them to their death. What a shame to see that their eagerness to bloom was met with a bitter snowstorm. The ghosts of the anticipation and excitement for the future – for spring. The rush to the happy ending. That haste in trying to live in the future.

And then only a few steps away stood the cherry blossoms. Delicate and happy. Embracing the soft spring breeze. Alive and well. Like a gentle walk around their trunks, flirting with the sunlight through their branches.

Perhaps the cherry blossoms are the wise ones this year. Some years the cherry blossoms are the ones who jump the gun. But this year, they learned their lesson. The lesson of patience.

To grow in patience is a goal of mine after the storm of my life during the wintertime. I recently attended a lecture by a Dominican Friar that centered around this virtue of patience. He intertwined references to various writings, including passages from Scripture, and it truly was a phenomenal talk. But learning this lesson from patterns in nature makes it seem so simple. I can only hope that it will manifest itself in my life.

I want to learn to hold fast to my seasons of life and to accept that God’s plan is greater. I want to see joy when the time is right, to accept the storms of life, if only to see the rainbow after rain – even though I know that desire to rush through life will always be inside of me. Perhaps I feel for the magnolias. Always rushing to be in the light instead of striving for it at the other end of the tunnel. Chasing that exhilaration from speeding down the street on a bike, feeling the wind pluck tears from my eyes as my surroundings fade into a mere blur around me. Denying myself a warm jacket in hopes that spring is here for good. Rushing ahead to where I am not supposed to be and then ending up defeated when I realize that I tried to fight nature – to fight God’s plan.

However, not all hope is lost for the magnolias. If there is one thing that they can count on, it is the consistency of change. Another trip around the sun will bring another spring – another opportunity to grow. Until then, both that hope for the future and the memory of spring past will preserve the innate beauty of the magnolias.

So, I messed up a few things this winter. I rushed into certain situations. I made some hasty decisions based on a fantasy of the future. In a lot of ways, I broke my own heart.

Now, I want to make things right. I want to take my time with life. Be present and serve others right now – knowing that the future holds only the best. To continue to Love whole-heartedly no matter the cost, no matter the risk of heartbreak. To trust in the greater plan, no matter how difficult it will be to just sit and wait. To not give up at the first sight of conflict or difficulty. To hold onto hope in people that I have never had before. I am already feeling the peace of patience radiate through my mind and heart. I know some days will be harder than others, and there will be days when I will long for that high of zooming down the streets of the D.C. or I will insist on not wearing coat or I will want to rush into something I know I’m not supposed to. I know I will fail, but this time, I will not give up – not on myself, and not on others.

Here’s to hoping that I too will bloom according to God’s perfect timing, like the cherry blossoms – like a soft, slow walk through the trees, inspecting every petal, every bud, every blossom playing tricks of light right before my very eyes. Standing firm but gentle at their peak bloom. Basking in the glory of waiting for that season. Enjoying the fleeting beauty of spring. The light at the end of the tunnel. The rainbow after the rain. And knowing that in another twelve months God will bring new life once again.