Bulbs

I was so excited today to see that my first Bearded Iris is open. It is a deep purple, so tall and stately. I can hardly wait for the rest to open. Last year was my first year and I don't remember what colors they all are. I only have a few in a half wine barrel. I filled the rest of the area with Red Chard, not to eat but because of the beauty of their stalks and foliage.
Have you ever looked at a bulb. It's brown and scruffy in appearance. Some of what we tend to call bulbs are actually a variety of corms, rhizones, or tuberous roots. They seem dead but they actually have their own cafeteria attached, subterranean organs that hold reserves of food to keep the plants alive from one growing season to another. That makes them more forgiving of casual care and attention. You put them deep in the soil and essentially forget about them until a day like today when their splendor takes your breath away.
That makes me think about my like before I met Christ. It was ugly and I was shriveled up emotionally. I was deep in depression, like the bulb buried deep in the earth. Unlike the bulb, I was empty and helpless to change. But like Spring bursting into bloom, Christ came in to transform my painful life into a thing of beauty. Slowly, but surely I feel loved and valued and free to bring joy to others, just as my Iris do for me.