I am absolutely a fair-weather gardener. I prefer my time outside to be sunny with a comfortable temperature that doesn’t require my fingers to freeze or my face to hurt. Spring planting, summer tending and fall harvesting all fit into this comfort level most years. One of my favorite days of the year is when we go buy flowers to plant in the early summer, for that’s when you can plant here in Colorado with less chance of random snow or freeze that will kill them.

This year, however, I am doing some things differently. I’m trying to embrace the bulb.

Bulbs are planted in the fall, and often late fall when the weather is not quite as pleasant. Thankfully, our weather has been nice, but the ground is still a bit tougher than it is during the summer. I got my shovel out and started digging many, many holes in the flower beds. As I dug, some things struck me.

I prefer flowers because I can see what they are going to look like. It’s instant gratification, as I can look out at my flower beds and see the beauty right after planting. But with bulbs, you bury them deep in the ground, hoping they will look like you are anticipating when they come up in the spring. Bulbs are probably more similar to the work I do with people, investing time, love and hope in them without any idea what will come of it. I love that God empowers us to do this without knowing the end of the story. How many times has God asked you to reach out in love to someone without knowing the response, or if they will reject or betray you? But the end of the story doesn’t determine if you should love them—Jesus loves the unlovable, the enemy and the betrayers. He can be enough love for us to do this also.

I have definitely had years that the squirrels dug up all my bulbs and I found them strewn across the lawn the next morning—half-eaten. Ugh! Such a bummer after the hard work of planting them. I now know that the bulbs need to be protected. I found some wire that is a tighter weave of metal than chicken wire, so the squirrels can’t get their greedy little paws through the holes to dig down and steal my bulbs. This protection in people’s lives is, to me, entrusting them over and over to God. He is the one who is in charge of growing revelation, and He is the only one who is safe to trust to keep putting them in the best place to know Him. He is faithful.

The other thing with bulbs is the waiting. I have studied before the importance of winter in our seasons, mostly because I had a real issue with it and wanted to know what God was all about in winter. I learned how much is going on in the trees and plants during the winter, as they prepare (under the ground and in secret) for the spring and summer. Some plants can’t bloom or grow if they haven’t been through enough freezing winter days. I know that so often God births revelation in pain and after times of what feel like winter to us. We can’t rush this process, and the deepening relationship with Him is totally worth the winter. It’s hard to wait, though, and endure the cold, the bleakness and the seemingly dead façade all around us.

Bulbs remind me that there are little packages of hope all around, buried deep beneath the soil and waiting for God to call them to life. Just the same, there are little places of hope within each of us, tuning our hearts to the voice of the Shepherd when He calls for us to arise and bloom. Don’t lose heart in the winter, for the spring is coming.

But that’s not all! Even in times of trouble we have a joyful confidence, knowing that our pressures will develop in us patient endurance. And patient endurance will refine our character, and proven character leads us back to hope. And this hope is not a disappointing fantasy, because we can now experience the endless love of God cascading into our hearts through the Holy Spirit who lives in us! Romans 5:3-5