On Holy Week and Crocuses

The first crocuses of the year made their debut on my front lawn today.  Violet blossoms, still tight in the bud.

I am unashamedly a flower person.  Want to thank me, impress me, persuade me?  Buy me flowers. Plant them in my garden.   And I will almost certainly do your bidding.  Doesn't matter the breed - roses, lilacs, daisies, orchids - I love them all.  Although, I will admit, no one has ever given me a bouquet of crocuses, and I probably wouldn't give my florist much in exchange for a handful of these barely-there-blossoms.   But I can't think of a flower that brings me more excitement and joy.

See, crocuses are how I know Spring is coming.  Even as a child, every year come March, I would go about searching for the subtle patches of colour against the muted brown, or the sharp purples and yellows peering through white snow. Before the tulips and the daffodils, before the green grass and swollen buds of maple trees, before the robins return to build their nests, there are the crocuses.  They are the unobtrusive evidence that this cold and bitter season is almost at a close.  Soon, we will put away our coats, uncover our heads, unwind the scarves from around our necks, and make room for the sun.

Crocuses are such unassuming creatures.  They lay close to the ground, so easily trampled if you are not searching for their presence.  Their lives are short.  Their beauty, fleeting.

But today, they continue their slow work of bloom, of spreading beauty among the still sleeping earth, right outside my front door.  And how fitting that they should make their appearance in the middle of this Holy Week.

The thing to remember about crocuses, is that they do not signify that Spring has arrived, but that it is coming.  In fact, the first few crocuses of the year usually mean that the dark days of Winter still have a blow or two in store for us yet.  That there will be a day not too far away, when we will bury our heads under the covers and shiver at the wind that blows right through.

This is for you, on this Holy Wednesday.  Take solace in the crocuses. There are still dark days ahead. But Aslan is on the move.  And with him comes Spring, comes new life.  Make room for the Son.

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