In the middle of things moving, changing, and transforming, some things still stay the same.
This flower came from one set of grandparents and years ago went to my other set of grandparents farther away. We were with those grandparents a couple weeks ago, and they offered for us to take the plant home. We didn’t at first, but as we were driving off, we turned around, went back, and dug up this iris to make the trek home and be planted in our own yard instead.
It’s an important piece of my family’s history. It means even more now as our family has experienced a lot of changes. Some good; some difficult.
One plant. Two families. Three homes.
It amazes me how it somehow survives all the uprooting and replanting, and can bloom again, after a season of growth underneath the surface.
Sometimes something so delicate can also be strong and resilient, and it makes change full of potential instead of a treacherous risk. Even though the roots are dug up and moved all over again, they were created with the potential to dig deep into what brings life, no matter if the scenery around it looks a little different each time, and we can know it will blossom again.
But it needs space to get its footing. It needs to stay grounded in what is True and constant, unwavering and unchanging.
When we find ourselves there, we are enabled to go anywhere and flourish. We learn to love more. Bring more joy. Explore new places where we’re needed and step forward in the way we are called to go.
It mirrors the hope of new life. What was once dead will live again – of this we can be sure. No matter what changes or where we go, this hope does not change. It cannot be taken away. It will not disappoint.
So we can step forward in any direction we’re led, as everything rushes by and when we wakeup that one day where we realize today looks nothing like yesterday. Things changes, but on what remains the same is where we fix our eyes.