Sunday, May 07, 2006

Must I Always Bloom?

In the midst of packing, I came across an article I had kept more than 10 years ago. For some reason, this piece of paper never found its way to the bin. It spoke to me then, and now it seems apt that I should stumble upon it again, for I needed the encouragement.

For those of us in the "dark night" or in a period of "spiritual dormancy", it is an encouragement to be reminded that sometimes, it is OK not to bloom. Sometimes we need to enter "spiritual rest" - such that even though we "appear dead, in fact, (we) may even be growing, though it gives no sign".

Rather than for me to paraphrase it, let me just share the article in its entirety:

"MUST I ALWAYS BLOOM?"
By Dorothy L Hsu
Moody magazine, April 1985 (p. 111)

An African violet plant hangs from the ceiling in my daughter's bedroom. Although no blooms are visible now, its foliage looks green and firm. I'm not surprised. Every winter the plant appears to be asleep, then suddenly, near spring, buds appear, and pink blossoms brighten the corner.

Should I always bloom in my spiritual life? I don't. I go through barren, desolate periods when I hardly feel like shouting "Praise the Lord!". Some mornings take tremendous strength to force myself from bed to my knees. Only with great discipline can I rivet my attention to God's Word. During those times, i question my spiritual survival. I "feel" dead.

I've discovered that God compares us to trees (Psalm 1; Jer. 17:7-8) and vine branches (John 15:5). He expects us to bear fruit, so He prunes us. I experienced the Lord's pruning through my husband's death eight years ago. The pruning knife hurt severely; its wounds are tender still. But the Lord knew what He was about. My grief drove me to Him. In desperation I absorved the Word, clung to my Father and consequently discovered new growth springing up - shoots of love, joy, peace and longsuffering.

Few plans bear fruit or blossom continuously. In Psalm 1, David notes that the godly man brings forth fruit in his season.

I'm elated to read in "Flowering House Plants" by James Crockett that "different plants rest in different ways and at different seasons... Some merely cease to flower but retain their green leaves. Some stop growing but give no other sign that they are resting. Some drop their leaves but retain moisture in their stems and branches, and stand like green skeletons. Some go into the extreme form of rest that horticulturists call dormancy: all vegetation above ground lies down and the plant appears dead although below ground it may be in a state somewhat similar to animal hibernation; in fact, it may even be growing, though it gives no sign."

From the absence of flowers to the brittle, dry appearance of death, I've seen it all. But, I'm not dead! At those times, growth is taking place underground. Later when the Bible again lives for me, when I am able to rejoice, I see that growth did occur.

Even AW Tozer had dry spells that he couldn't explain. In "That Incredible Christian", he observed, "If we are dry because of some wrong on our part (such as an unconfessed sin, fatigue or monotony), the Spirit through His Word will show us the fault." Otherwise he suggests, "when we feel dry, it is wise either to ignore it or to tell God about it without any sense of guilt."

Perhaps, like plants, we need dormant periods for rest, to prepare us for another growing spurt. If I hadn't just recovered from a barren time several months ago, I would not have been able to share hope with my friend Nancy in her spiritual drought.

I don't have all the answers about dry periods. But when the next one comes, I'm going to peek at the violet in Rachel's room. If it's not blooming, I'll be reminded that it will. I can abide the dormant periods when I know they are neither wasted nor permanent. Blossoms are on the way.