When Spring comes, it is easy to notice new growth practically everywhere. Crocuses, Daffodils, Tulips, new buds on trees and bushes… the list goes on! I have the pleasure of working with some flower loving women so my knowledge on flowers is definitely growing as well. Finding the beauty in bright, vibrant new flowers does not take much effort. Their colours draw you in, large buds opening up and blooming right before your eyes. Before buds emerge, green stems shoot from the ground seemingly overnight. The growth of Spring flowers happens quickly and before we know it, flowers have emerged all around us – a sign of hope after a cold winter.
What is maybe not so easy to observe are the little blades of grass. They are often small, teeny tiny little blades. We see puddles and mud most of Spring and only hope for grassier ground that we can eventually lay out on in the sun, but the way the grass emerges does not seem as obvious. There are no tall shoots of stem, no buds waiting to erupt, no yellows, pinks and purples to draw you in. Grass is everywhere, while flowers seem special.
Maybe I have grass on my mind lately because of our tomb garden baskets that we grew together as a church over Lent. Or maybe it is simply the season of growth that is causing me to look more closely at the ground. But in being amazing by the flowers, I have tried not to forget that we can also be amazed by the grass.
It grows slowly and steadily. In little spurts it pops up, somehow on pavement and beside sidewalks where it is easily trampled. It gets rained on, walked over, pulled out by the little hands of children. It is abused by pets and large shoes. Yet somehow, it remains. People are careful of flowers… but grass? Not so much. Yet grass is what makes up most of the earth covering it and sheltering it.
The growing grass has reminded me of some relationships that I have with people in the Dale community, most specifically with my friend John*. John and I are civil… we get along. There have been times that we have disagreed and there will be times again. I have been accused of being too harsh by John and of talking too firmly in response to his yelling (which is kind of funny in a way). We have had our ups and downs, that is for sure. But since returning from maternity leave I have tried to be careful with John. I have treaded lightly, not stepping too firmly. I have waiting a little longer for words to come through the silence. I have tried to be more patient, knowing that there are and were many hard days that John has walked. And like the grass, our relationship is slowly blooming. There are more hello’s coming my way, more laughs, and more shared stories. I feel more open in my heart too, looking for things on my travels that I know he is in need of. This giving and receiving is causing us to grow with each other.
As I said, John and I are like the grass. We have been trampled on, even sometimes having stepped on each other. Our relationship is not as vibrant and obviously beautiful as flowers. We have taken time, but have somehow grown where people have thought we wouldn’t, like in cracks through the pavement. We are steady somehow now, through years of trial and error. This is not to say that we will be perfect. Grass is funny that way… it grows brown when dry. It is easily pulled out and tossed aside. But it is resilient. I have learned that I am okay with having relationships with people sometimes that are similar to how grass grows. If it takes time, is steady and resilient, and has hope to continue to grow despite hard times, I will take it. Flowers come and go, but grass remains.
May you find peace in steady things that take time. They are worth it.
I am a community worker at The Dale Ministries. For me, doing this work means inviting others into my journey of ministry – prayerfully and financially. If you would like to support the work that I do at The Dale, I would love to chat. Please email me at email@example.com