In April, I thought I had the perfect story to go with a Bible passage that spoke to me about the times we are in.
May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in him, so that you may overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit (Romans 15:13 NIV).
Several years ago, my next-door neighbor gifted me a wisteria bush from her front yard. She said that it had never bloomed and she hated looking at it taking up space in her flower bed.
I thought I could be more successful because decades ago at my first house, I had a wisteria bush that bloomed and behaved itself. However, every year this one bloomed, but mostly sent out long runners almost reaching as far as my neighbor’s yard, as if it missed her. We were both amazed that it bloomed, so I forgave it for overstepping its boundaries.
Then, I found instructions as to how to prune wisterias for maximum bloom. Over four years, I followed the somewhat complicated instructions in late winter and mid-summer—leaving only four arm-length shoots off a main stem. And every year, the number of clusters doubled. I loved their purpleness in the shape of a bunch of grapes.
For 2020, I was full of hope for a spectacular spring show of color because I counted possibly 200 clusters! Yes, it was a cold, wet spring, but my wisteria was ready to burst open in the expected warmth of mid-spring. Purple started to peek out from under the leaves. Just what I needed in such a depressing time during the pandemic.
All looked wonderful until an unusually cold night in April zapped all those baby clusters. How could that be? I was sure that wisterias were frost-proof. Research showed that only the roots could survive a frost, but not those soon-to-open buds. Alas, my husband’s potato plants were likewise frost nipped. Eventually, his potatoes re-emerged. However, I gave up hope for my 2020 wisteria season. I stopped looking at the bush as it sent out those annoying shoots.
In late May, I saw three purple clusters on the plant. The dead-looking clusters remained and the shape of each surviving cluster was a deformed blob of color.
But it gave me hope—a reminder of Paul’s message that we can be filled with “joy and peace” even in these uncertain times. The world has changed, but God is still there. The Holy Spirit still has the power to change lives. Never give up hope that the world will be a better place.
Now there’s another ending to the story. A robin family also enjoyed the abundant growth of my wisteria. They nested deep within the foliage. Just two days before they fledged, I saw the nest. More joy in my life. Thank you God.
Cathy Curry Smith 