Participating with Kate Motaung. Check her out at fiveminutefriday.com. The word is play
Come Out To Play
Jesus said, “Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these.” Mt 19:14
The daylilies are back this year. The orange ones that for years I fussed about. I wanted them gone. The were intrusive, they were all one color, and anything else I planted alongside them were overrun and eventually completely suffocated. They also weren’t my idea. They were here when we moved in. So I finally had them uprooted. I planted other lilies in their place of different colors and varieties. I still loved lilies. I just wanted variety.
But there were problems. The Chipmunks, moles and mice ate the bulbs. So I planted again, this time each with a mothball. A couple grew the first year, and a few more the next. But then, just last year the rabbits found them and ate every last bloom. I guess colors taste good. So I've had it, I thought. This year the ground will sit. Gardens aren't working for me. The only plant that has survived well is my bleeding heart, which was transplanted from where those day lilies were. It sits in front of my garage, which is falling down, so we just moved that also.
Now I look out my window and there are orange blooms playing in the breeze, aimed at the sky, free and happy to have returned. They were not completely rooted out. They lie dormant for a while covered with layers of other growth. But they weren't dead, their roots were growing strong and resilient.
The child in me longs to play. What has been growing in her place? I've heard it said we grow up because we stop playing. Both is important. Someone once gifted me $30. She said I was to spend it frivolously. I put it in an envelope and it took about 3 years to spend it. I don't even remember if I spent it all. I think that envelope is still around. It’s not that I haven’t spent anything. I think It's the thought of spending what has been designated and gifted for that purpose and the fear of never having it again.
We layer, we bury, we forget. God does not forget. Sometimes it takes everything being ripped apart to unearth the inner child we were created to be. Jesus calls us children no matter how old we get and whatever or whoever has prevented her. She is not gone. She is growing strong and resilient. No one is free like a child who knows she is loved. When I experience that freedom, maybe even my responsibility will be as child's play.
Oh, a few of the red lilies survived with the orange ones. They will play together. The rabbits moved out. I am at peace.