As the drifts of snow piled higher and higher outside my little abode, I knew that I’d be in for a long winter. In more ways than one.
I had just gotten back to Japan from the states while my husband Cody was still finishing up some training for the Air Force. It was a two month long training session, and we were one month down. That month I enjoyed an extended stay with friends and family in Washington. But now that I was back in Japan, I suddenly felt the sharp ache of being away from the close connections of home and husband.Stay busy. That was my mantra. Though honestly, it’s hard forging your way as a self-employed artist. Your workplace is your drafting table in the next room, and your boss if your own self-discipline and will. Going to work means that I need to somehow push all other distracting things aside and making myself stay focused on the goals at hand. Some seasons I’m right on track and making headway. Other times, it’s not as easy.February was one of those times. I quickly found that many things that I came back to do turned out to be less time-consuming that I had originally thought. I had a lot more time on my hands, which ironically made it harder to stay focused and busy. I began fretting and doubting my decision to return a month early. Waking up and going to sleep in an empty house (spare the cat) was taxing, and it was a slog to keep moving on through the days. I even considered hopping a flight back to the states during one emotional meltdown. It was a good thing that it didn’t work out, but dangit….it was hard.That’s when I remembered the crocus.The crocus is a flowering plant part of the iris family. It grows from a bulb and appears anywhere from late winter through early spring. Despite its delicate nature, it can force itself up through the snow to display blooms varying in colors from pinks, yellows and purples. Throughout many cultures, it has been known as a symbol for hope and strength, since it perseveres even through the icy grip of winter.There are many ways the God speaks to me, but perhaps one of the most strongest and clearest is through the language of flowers. I felt the immediate connection. Seeking out a few photographs of crocuses I took years ago on my mom’s old Nikon SLR, I posted couple pictures around my workspace and one on my bathroom mirror. Every time I would glance at my calendar or brush my teeth, I saw those pictures of the crocus. I am a crocus. I would tell myself. I may be small, I may feel weak, but I will push through. I can do this.
The days ticked off, one by one. The snow eventually melted, and I even acquired a little clump of crocuses that I put in a pot outside. After a warm spell last week, I was delighted to notice plump purple buds poking up through the leaves. I watched them over the next few days, and--like a faithful friend--those delicate, strong little flowers proved themselves once again.
Also, Cody gets back on Sunday. : )