Last spring, as we were packing up our belongings, our lives, in preparation for our move from a larger property to a townhome, I would wander our garden, drinking in the changes we had made, the flowers, shrubs and trees I had planted.
There was one tree that I remember standing in front of for quite awhile. It was a magnolia tree, planted a number of years ago, after receiving it as a gift one Mother’s Day. Once just three to four feet tall, it reached well above my height to over twelve feet in height.
Magnolias are my favorite tree (along with Japanese maples, Forsythia, Dogwoods … okay, I love trees that flower, have colors beyond just green). They are an ancient tree, believed to pre-date bees (pollination was done by beetles). Their flowers can be white, pink, coral or the creamiest white. Mine was pink, with large, sturdy ‘teacup’ flowers. They smell of spring and bloom early in the season. As they lose their petals the ground underneath appears to have experienced isolated snowfall.
It was as though that tree represented the very growth and changes of our family, and I remember standing in front of it, mourning my loss of this history holder, this memory of a gift from the ones I love the most.
I probably mourned this loss over all others when we moved.
Then, this spring, while driving home one day, my eyes were opened wide to see that there was a magnolia just in front of our townhouse. Actually, the street is lined with them … dozens of pink flowered magnolia trees right in front of our new home.
I smiled every day as they decorated our street with visual beauty.
Coincidence? I think not.
“He delights in every detail of their lives.”
Psalm 37:23
itsawonderfilledlife 