Where did that flower come from? It’s February, the middle of the winter. Granted, we are in South Georgia, so winter is not the same here as it is in other parts of the country. This morning we have the heater on in our house, but later today, the windows will be open, and we will be outside in shorts and flip flops. Do not misunderstand, I love it! I firmly believe that God intended me to be in a climate that exudes warmth, sunshine, and water. That’s right, rivers, lakes, oceans…I embrace all bodies of water as well as the sun pouring down on my face. He did deliver me to this earth on a hot summer day…that’s all the proof I need.
Walking outside a week or so ago, I noticed a few purple flowers in my primarily neglected flower bed. It has been cold and rainy the last few weeks so I haven’t ventured outside. I found myself staring at these flowers, wondering where they came from. Then it hit me that I planted some bulbs I found in a clearance bin months ago. I remember the bag and the picture but cannot at all recall the name of the flower. It is so beautiful, a deep purple rod of blooms with a thick green leafy base. I see that everything else around it is dead. The grass is a tan shade of lifelessness. A little further down the row I see a few sprouts popping out of the ground. The beautiful green tips telling me that growth is happening beneath the seemingly cold, colorless ground. Rounding the corner, I stopped in my tracks when I noticed a plant that I thought was dead had actually turned green again, that’s when it happened. God showed me something very special that day. We plant something in every season. It may be seasons later before we see the result of what we planted but it WILL grow.
I have been married for almost 30 years. My marriage has seen many seasons. We have planted seeds that resulted in beauty and seeds that brought about destruction. We have even neglected the garden, which left us with weeds that stole the nutrients from our beautiful life together and nearly ended it.
You see, each season gave us opportunities to plant and gather. Early in our marriage, everything was new and exciting. We were learning how to live as a couple. How to communicate and how to love. Like Spring, some days had a crisp, windy chill, while others were wet and dreary. Others, however, were bright with sunshine. Starting a marriage is full of excitement and adventure, but it does bring a bit of frustration. “That’s the side of the bed I sleep on.” “Please pick up your socks.” “My mom cooks field corn, not silver queen.” Yes, these were real discussions in our early days. Combining lifestyles can be a challenge in the beginning, but the beginning is where we start to see the beauty and learn how to appreciate it.
You already know that I am a summer girl! I love everything about the summer. Yes, even the heat. But let’s be real . . . it can burn and sting and exhaust you. Looking back, that is exactly what this season of marriage can look like as your little garden begins to grow. Children, I’m talking about children. You move from a couple to a family of 3, 4, 5, 8, 12 . . . wow . . . that garden grew quickly. Sleepless nights, potty training, preschool, soccer, high school, girlfriends, boyfriends, graduation, college. Do you see how quickly summer flies by? Even if you didn’t enjoy all of the hot days, you miss them when they’re gone. Some days you felt so disconnected as a couple as your attention turned from each other to raising a family.
Someone once said, “the days are long, but the years are short.” Parents know this to be all too true. Yesterday, the sun beat down on our little garden. We were teaching our children how to be adults. Then one morning I woke up and there was a new crispness in the air.
My husband and I were given two beautiful children. Our oldest, a son, announced he was moving out the day after our daughter was dropped off at her college apartment. He left that very day. I can almost see all of the moms reading this gasp and have immediate pity for me. I will say, it was not that bad. Just like the golden glow you only see on a cool Autumn morning, our lives had a brand new feel to it. We resembled those newlyweds we met back in the Spring but with one big difference…experience. We already knew which side of the bed was good for each of us. Socks were now put in the laundry bin (me, I was the one that dropped them on the floor), and the corn, well, that one is still a compromise. The focus was back on the two of us. And thankfully we learned from the early years how to not only love each other but to respect each other.
Early Fall can often resemble the crisp, cool, sometimes sunny days that Spring can bring, but it is so beautifully different. Fall is a season of preparation. A time to gather and store what we need to enter into Winter. Both of our children are now adults with lives separate from ours. They now make decisions without our opinions or direction. Soon they will start their own marriages and families. We are at the edge of Winter and are so ready for it. We have stocked our shelves with experiences and memories and love.
I have always loved to watch the little gray-haired couples walk together, holding hands. I’ve imagined the life they had and the love they shared. We are rapidly becoming one of those couples, and it is a sweet place to be. My husband and I have laughed and cried, agreed and argued, spoken and been silent, failed and succeeded many, many times over the last thirty years. But we have never stopped growing, learning, listening, or loving each other. When I married this man that April day so long ago, I made a promise, a commitment not only to love and honor him but to stand beside him through every season of life. More importantly, I promised to always keep God in the center of my marriage. I will not tell you it is always easy, but it is always FOR always. The Lord has been with us through financial breakdowns, communication breakdowns, and emotional breakdowns. He has shown us how to be patient, kind, and understanding. He has loved us through everything and taught us how to love each other without condition or failure. He has been the very center of this marriage, this family, this life.
While walking in my yard that day, I was amazed by every new thing I saw growing and peaking through the soil. It was all so beautifully new and exciting. I could only smile at each new discovery. Then it hit me . . . every new thing I saw was because of what was planted seasons earlier. You see, we cannot grow what we do not plant. Payton and I are so thankful for the garden God gave us to tend, and we can hardly wait to see how He grows what we planted together.
Written by: Betty Ann NeSmith. Betty Ann lives in Boston, GA with her husband, Payton.