As the winter thawed, the wildflowers popped up everywhere. It flooded my memory with drives to my great grandmother’s home in Mansfield, looking out the window to soak in the bluebonnets, Indian paintbrushes, coneflowers, phlox, and buttercups.

I saw a beautiful photo of bluebonnets on my friend Christina’s Instagram page and knew I just had to take the kids to see what it looks like when the bluebonnets take over and the grass and the ground becomes the color of the sky.

As we drove closer to the town I grew up in, the memory of the map from my childhood whispered to today and I found myself disoriented. I pulled into the parking lot of the local swimming pool, where my mother would drop off my brother and me for a day full of friends and sun and vending machines full of forbidden snacks.

 

I unbuckled Sebastian and started walking across the field. Riley and Mary Alice ran ahead.

I could picture looking back at my parents on our evening bike rides on that same trail.

I gave myself a pep talk about thinking about wonderful memories and embracing change. I gave myself space to add fresh memories of the same place without replacing feelings from the past.

My mind wandered to the 14,318 devotionals in my head about gardening. Patience, pruning, and the joy that happens in spring are a rhythm that always makes me think of how He loves us in every season.

Julia and I were talking recently about how much we see God in creation. She said, “And remember… Mary Magdalene mistook Him for the gardener after He rose from the dead.” I had never put that together!

 

So, thank you my sweet Gardener, for giving such beauty to us. Thank you for the rhythm of Creation that brings comfort.