While traveling through Alabama on Interstate 85, Pilot and I like to look for blossoming mimosa trees. We point out each one we see.
As we traveled north to attend the Blue Ridge Mountain Christian Writers Conference this year, we were disappointed and surprised to find fewer than usual trees with blooms.
On our return trip the following week we spotted tree after beautiful tree full of blossoms.
We tried to figure out what may have caused the lack of trees in bloom as we journeyed to the conference. Not enough rain. Too much rain. Colder than normal winter. Warmer than normal winter …
We’re not horticulturists so truly have no idea for the delayed blossoms. We settled for the fact it simply was not the right time yet.
Having spent the week with over three hundred writers at the BRMCWC, I couldn’t help make the comparison between those mimosa trees and each of us. Not only those of us who write.
We’re all on different journeys. We don’t achieve our goals, don’t blossom, at the same time do we? Some of us bloom earlier. Some bloom later. Some dreams are achieved earlier. Some achieved later.
Some of us have a profusion of blossoms on our tree. Others don’t have as many. The number of blossoms does not negate the beauty of the tree.
No matter how successful or unsuccessful our lives may appear to others or ourselves, our lives continue to be beautiful when we offer them for our Creator God’s purposes.
I’ve found when hopes or dreams are delayed, there are some who think they must know the exact reason for the delay. They theorize the reason for the delay is too much this. Not enough that. When honestly, in much the same way as Pilot and me and the mimosa blooms, they don’t have the slightest idea, and truly don’t need one.
It’s just not God’s time yet.
I’m coming to realize the One who told the moon when to shine and the sun when to sleep, told the sea it could only come so far and no further, placed the stars in the heavens and the bars around Orion knows when our not time yet will turn into it’s time now.
The same way God told each and every blossom on each and every mimosa tree that lines I-85 when it was time to bloom, he knows when it is time for our dreams to blossom.
As we wait for whatever dream we hold in our heart, perhaps we should remember the mimosas that bloom at God’s appointed time and not one moment sooner.
Is there a dream you’re waiting on to bloom?
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To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven. Ecclesiastes 3:1 (KJV)
I wish you well.
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