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Previous | Next When the tiger lilies bloom
 Darlene Klassen
It is spring. The irises have burst into my world in purple and white. The creeping phlox are spreading a purple carpet over several parts of the garden. Lilies are just biding their time, gathering their energy.
Annuals are taking root and quickly rising to the occasion of summer. Theirs is a short life; they must bloom between June and late August, when the frosts punctuate the growing season.

I walk around my yard once or twice a day during this time of the year, willing my plants to grow and flourish. Change comes gradually; slowly the plants grow, develop buds and strengthen. Yet, even with slow growth, there are moments of sudden change moments which alter the colours in the garden. If I miss one of the daily walkabouts, I could miss the first gladiola piercing the ground on its way up, or the first iris blossom bursting upon the scene. Later, in June, tiger lilies add their bright orange to the cool purples and blues which dominate my spring garden.

When the tiger lilies bloom, it is remembering time.

It seems that there have always been tiger lilies. One spring during high school, Dan brought me a tiger lily. We planted it in the front of my parents’ yard, where it bloomed faithfully each year. We were married during its blooming time, on June 16. Every year, it remembered our anniversary.

His plane went down on the 25th of June, 1989.

“As for man, his days are like grass, he flourishes like a flower of the field; the wind blows over it and it is gone, and its place remembers it no more” (Psalm 103:15-16).

In one spot in my garden, the lilies ripen more slowly, waiting. I daily watch the tips slowly darken from green into the golden colour of the sun at high noon,
and then into the orange of a sunset. It is remembering time.

He flourished for such a short time. Long enough to bring beauty into my life. Long enough to give life to our two daughters. Long enough to testify to God’s work in this world and in him. When the lilies bloomed last spring, he had been gone 10 years.

As I tend my garden each spring, watching everything blossom and flourish for its time, I look forward to a garden tended by my Lord. A garden with wholeness, beauty, unity and colour, and not a thistle or weed to mar the soil. A garden where a river of life springs eternally to bring life to those who have overcome.
Darlene Klassen is a member of Coaldale (Alta.) MB Church.
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Last modified July 16, 2000.

© 2000 Mennonite Brethren Herald. Published by the Canadian Conference of MB Churches. Masthead and usage information.
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