The Tulip and the Blade of Grass

The deeper I get into this parenting thing, the more complex I realize it is.  The more I need God every step of the way.



I have one child who I call my tulip.  He is beautiful inside and out.  When the sun shines on him, his petals open up and the most amazing and tender things come out his heart. He is the first to give me a hug and smile in the morning.  He is the first to feel remorse for misbehavior and always to first to forgive others, including his mama.  His heart is so pure, so tender, yet so exposed even as a tulip opens up its petals and exposes itself to the warm sun.  The tulip's delicate beauty and trust in the warmth of the sun also opens it up to the other elements.  A little rain or wind and the tulip is the first to lose its petals.  And so I live, every breath a prayer that winds of my human weakness and frustration don't cause my delicate, tender tulip to drop his petals.  He opens himself up to me every day, exposing himself and trusting. And I pray that God give me the grace and wisdom to nurture his gentle spirit into a bright, beautiful bloom.


On the opposite end of the spectrum is my second son...the blade of grass.  He is colorful in his own way.  Fun-loving, bursting forth with all the energy of spring.  Delicate and tender is not how I would describe him, though.  You can step on him, roll on him...no matter what you do, he will bounce right back up.  The loving care that he needs is called mowing.  If you give him the the care of tulip, he will grow wild and unruly - but give him some good, strong direction and he will thrive.  However, if the sun is scorching hot and there is no gently rain to soothe the pain, the grass to will whither.  And so I pray that God give me the wisdom and strength to love and nurture my grass in the way that he needs - to not treat like my tulip but give him the strong love he needs without scorching his soul.


Both the tulip and the grass are beautiful in their own ways.  Both are needed to encompass the beauty of spring. 

Two separate plants. Both growing in the same garden under the care of the same gardener.  And this gardener remains on her knees, every breath a prayer, asking for wisdom from the Master Gardener Himself.  The One who knows their needs better than I ever could.