Forsythia

There are many signs of spring.
I enjoy the light green hue that is just barely visible on the tree branches.
In a short time, that green hue will burst forth into full fledged leaves.
Until then, spring teases.

Crocuses and daffodils peek through the ground and make their appearance.
Everything is waking up.
Everything is waiting to blossom.
Color will fill the landscape that was brown and lifeless through the winter months.

I always enjoyed seeing the forsythia in bloom.
Seeing those bright yellow flowers was a sure sign of spring.
Often, forsythia makes a natural hedgerow.
Left alone, forsythia can seemingly grow wild.

At least that is what my husband always said.
I had asked him to plant forsythia for me, but he never would.
He did not like that the plant seemed unkempt.
He did not like that the plant seemed to grow with abandon.

I think that is exactly why I liked it.
There was something untamed about it.
Mostly, I liked the fact that the yellow flowers marked the coming of spring.
I remember a forsythia bush in my backyard when I was a little girl.

My mother would cut branches of the forsythia and put them in a vase.
Spring came inside and it always made me smile.
Forsythia and the smell of hyacinth signified the Easter season for me.
Perhaps it was trying to rekindle some of those childhood memories that made me want it so.

We had wonderful neighbors, who have since moved away.
It was a delight living next door to them.
We shared the same last name.
Somehow the mail carrier never confused our mail, for which we were always grateful.

They were older than my husband and I and enjoyed our children.
Their children were grown.
They had grandchildren as well.
There was a wooded area between our houses.

They had a pool, and offered that pool to me and the children while they worked each day.
There was literally a path that was worn in the wooded area between our houses.
Eventually, it was purposely maintained so that it was easy to go back and forth.
Robert Frost said, Good fences make good neighbors; so does a path in the woods as well.

One spring as we were outside talking, I must have said that I loved forsythia.
They took such good care of their property and were always planting new things.
I really do not remember talking about forsythia but our neighbor remembered.
I came home to a lovely surprise one afternoon.

I was out all morning with the children and drove down the driveway.
Right on the edge of the wooded area, still on their property but visible to us, I saw it.
My sweet neighbor planted a forsythia bush.
It was mature enough that it already had yellow flowers on it.

He was outside and he could easily see my delighted surprise.
I know you like forsythia, so I planted one for you to look at from your kitchen window.
I could feel tears come to my eyes.
Thank you, I said, that was so very sweet of you.

Our neighbors moved to another state to be closer to their grandchildren.
They are never far from my heart or my memory.
The forsythia they planted for me is still blooming.
Its yellow flowers remind me of them every time I look out my kitchen window.

There is a woman who does our planting and mulching each season.
She believes in doing things as organically as possible, which is why I appreciate her.
I once asked her about the forsythia plant.
I wanted to know why people disliked the wildness of it.

She explained that as forsythia grows, its stems tend to arch down towards the ground.
Wherever that arched branch touches, it puts down roots.
Those roots start a new plant.
Soon a wild hedgerow is in your yard if the forsythia is left untouched.

There is something I really like about that.
It is not so much the untouched wildness as much as the new growth.
I like the fact that wherever the arched branch touches, a new plant will grow.
How I want to be like that forsythia.

I planted the seed, Apollos watered it, but God has been making it grow. (1 Corinthians 3:6)

I want to be so heavy laden with the Gospel that I touch others with the Good News.
I want that branch I extend to make new roots.
I want those roots to grow into a new planting for the Lord.
I want that new planting to come to Christ by the power of the Holy Spirit.

There is a wildness to the Christian life.
We have seed to plant.
We have to make sure that seed is well watered.
Only God makes the plant grow.

Only God can take our heavy laden branches bursting with Good News and touch another.
We pray that our branches take root as they extend to others.
New plants pop up all around us.
From those plants come more new plants.

After a while, there is a hedgerow for Christ.
There is a wildness to the Christian life.
We don’t want to tame the growth if it means new plantings for the Lord.
I will never look at forsythia in quite the same way ever again.