One of my hostas broke through the cold, hard dirt of winter too early this year. Its location circling the old juniper receives constant sun and faces south. I suppose this little guy got confused and pushed its way through the protective soil before winter had completely lost its grip. In his haste, he was rushing spring.
Is Rushing Spring a Good Idea?
This determined hosta sprouted about four inches, its tightly wound leaves pointing like spikes toward the sky. The other hostas forming a circle around the juniper lay dormant, safe beneath the blanket of soil, waiting for the appointed time to emerge.
Soon after the hosta made its appearance, the temps dipped into the twenties. Frost, heavy like snow, glistened across our lawn. It melted quickly, but not before harming any impatient, tender foliage rushing spring.
The hosta was one such plant caught in the cold shock of a lingering winter morning, ill-prepared, vulnerable … exposed to the harsh, bitter chill.
That was a few weeks ago. I had not paid attention until yesterday.
I spent the afternoon cleaning out flowerbeds, prepping them for spring planting. The hostas circling the old juniper were growing tall and full, thriving in the spring mountain air. Then I circled around to the side facing south, the side exposed to the sun all day — the side where the impatient hosta had emerged well before its appointed time.
Leaves had tried to unfurl from their tightly woven spike, but they were stuck in the emergence of a few weeks earlier. A brown casing held them bound. A protective casing for the new foliage typically releases as the leaves are born, but because of the heavy frost, this casing had died and held the leaves captive.
Gently, I worked to release the hosta from its imprisonment, breaking up the brown, dead casing and pulling it away. Immediately, the young leaves began to relax and open. A day later, the leaves were completely unfurled.
I Found Myself Rushing Spring
As I think about this, I can see the Lord’s fingers gently freeing me from things that keep me bound, those things I rushed into without seeking His counsel, those things meant for my good but I rejected because I wanted the winter of my soul to be over and found myself rushing spring.
Winter is vital. The quiet dormancy of a soul during a difficult season finds the very essence of who God is, how great is His love, and how faithful is His presence. Roots of faith grow deep, strengthening us against the storms of life, against the fierce winds of adversity.
Yes, winter is vital.
But it is also difficult and we don’t want to wait or to yield to our Father’s hand as He refines us, chipping away the dross that interferes with our relationship with Him. Our impatience to do great things for the Kingdom, to be heard, to be seen by somebody — our impatience for rushing spring — can actually bind us and stunt our growth.
To everything, there is a season and a time for every purpose under the heavens. We can trust the sovereignty of God. He is for us, not against us. He has plans for us — good plans to give us a future and a hope.
He is faithful and true.
But we cannot rush spring.
The psalmist said it best, “I wait for the Lord, my whole being waits, and in His Word, I put my hope.” ( Psalm 130:5)
He is a Good, Good Father
And if by chance our impatience with a winter season of the soul rushes spring and interferes with God’s work in our lives, He will tenderly release us from the damage we have caused and set us free to unfurl our wings and soar.
Selah
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Sweet blessings to you,
