What Daffodils Taught Me About Spiritual Growth
What a garden full of daffodils taught me about growth, faith, and the things we cannot yet see
Welcome to Saturday’s reflection.
Find a cosy corner, get a cup of something warm and be prepared to be shocked by an act of horticultural vandalism!
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One of the strangest stories in the Gospels involves a fig tree.
Jesus sees it from a distance, covered in leaves. He walks over expecting fruit, finds none, and curses it. To make matters even more puzzling, Mark tells us it was not even the season for figs.
For years, I found the story difficult to understand. It seemed unfair. Why would Jesus expect fruit from a tree when fruit should not have been there in the first place?
Then I began to realise that the story is not really about a tree at all.
Before I get there, though, it reminds me of a lesson I learned many years ago.
As a young man, I was immensely proud to move into my first rented home. It sat in a beautiful part of Suffolk, and for someone just starting out in life, it felt like a significant achievement.
The first spring brought a surprise.
Almost overnight, hundreds of daffodils appeared in the garden. Not scattered randomly, but growing in a neat square that dominated much of the lawn. They were spectacular. People would stop to admire them. Some even came specifically to see them.
A few visitors even began leaving loose change on the fence post, almost as though the garden had become a local tourist attraction.
I should probably have been pleased. Instead, I found the whole thing rather annoying.
In what I now recognise as youthful impatience, I fetched the lawnmower and cut the lot down. I know, people usually gasp when I tell them that bit.
Problem solved.
Or so I thought.
What nobody explained to me was what would happen the following year.
My act of horticultural vandalism had led to an even bigger display the following spring. The daffodils returned in greater numbers than before. Far from solving the problem, I had created an even bigger attraction than before.
Looking back, I realise I understood very little about how living things grow. I assumed what I could see on the surface was the whole story and had no idea what was happening beneath the soil.
It comes back to mind whenever I read the story of the fig tree.
