Isn’t it funny when a memory from years ago, something small and seemingly insignificant, is brought to the forefront of your mind? Memories are often resurfaced or triggered by a small act in the present. Just the other day after taking the dog outside, my husband came back inside and told me the first plants of the season were starting to grow near our chimney. They were just green stalks, he couldn’t tell what they were. I confidently told him they were daffodils and immediately after my response, a sweet memory came to my mind and I was transported back to when I was 6 years old.
I grew up in the suburbs of Indianapolis. While we never lived downtown, metropolitan life was never far. My family lived in an apartment growing up and we never had a yard of our own. Even when we moved to a small rental house for a short period of time, we didn’t always spend a ton of time outside; the neighbors' frightful dog made sure of that. When I was six we moved into our first home. It was ours and it had an incredible yard where my brother and I could run and roam freely; there weren’t any mean dogs either!
As time went on, I came to know our yard well. My brother and I spent more time outside than we did inside. On one particular occasion, our first spring in our new home, I was playing in the backyard and something yellow caught my eye. I parted two bushes and discovered a beautiful patch of yellow flowers. I was ecstatic and ran to fetch my mother so she could see. “What are these and where in the world did they come from?” I asked her. “We haven’t planted anything back here yet.”
“Those are daffodils.” she told me. “Someone before us planted them.” She went on to explain that they come back every year and that they’re a sign spring is coming as they’re the first to bloom. My mind was blown; we didn’t even plant these beautiful flowers but we still got to enjoy them year after year? How incredible! Of course as a 6 year old, I also wanted to pick every single daffodil and bring them inside. My mother told me no, in order for them to live longer, they need to stay rooted in the ground.
As the image of that memory faded in present day, I was stuck on what my mother said, “Someone before us planted them.” In the same week my husband pointed out the daffodils, I was asked to speak at church about how my faith impacts my family’s lifestyle and routines. I couldn’t help but liken parents striving to raise their children in the truth, to the daffodils.
Those who go before us, parents and grandparents, plant the seeds. They find good ground free of pests, weeds, and rocks. They ensure the ground will have access to the light and that the seedlings and sprouts have enough water and don’t dry out. And finally, over time, the daffodils bloom. There’s nothing as beautiful as a daffodil! Their color is so cheerful and bright. They’re a reminder that a new season is coming. But being the first plants to bloom, daffodils often encounter frost and heavy rain as winter finally gives way to spring. But as long as they’ve had enough time to be properly rooted, they will survive and thrive.
Ironically I now have a 6 year old daughter and also a son. They’re my joy and my sunshine - they’re my daffodils. I don’t have a green thumb; I haven’t read every parenting book under the sun but I know what my children need to bloom. They need to be rooted in the firm foundation of Jesus Christ. It’s my job to go before them, just as my mother has gone before me, to plant the seeds of faith and help them grow. To ensure they’re on good ground, that they have access to the well that never runs dry and the light that never dims. To protect them from outside elements so that they have time to develop strong roots that can withstand the storms that are bound to come or those who will try to pluck them from their foundation.
Mommas, spring is coming! Let’s help our children bloom to the best of their ability. If we ensure they have a firm foundation and strong roots, they will bloom season after season.
