She picks me up from work today.
I hand her the tea and sit next to her.
The car still has that new smell, reminds me of a mixture of chlorine and the Garden Gallery. I look over at her and she is radiant.
She asks me if we can go pick some lilacs. It’s the last few lingering days of May and we can almost taste June now. And this winter was very long, and very hard, and you all know that because you felt it, too. Through that long, hard, seemingly never ending winter, we longed for spring. And spring has arrived, in all her succulent glory. She tells me she’s learning to bring the beauty inside. So when she asks me if we can go pick some lilacs, I say yes.
We drive around our little town of Dundas, on the hunt for that taste of spring. The sun is shining bright, and though the air is sort of nippy, we don't stop looking. And we find them, after a little bit of searching. Because sometimes things don’t happen as quickly as we hope for them to. But it doesn't mean you stop searching.
She grins when we spot them, tucked behind the few trees over there, and there’s a man waiting by the bus stop just down the hill, and a slight thrill runs through us when we go to take some flowers.
She inhales deeply, smelling them, and I watch her. Their fragrance is overwhelming in the best, most summery way, and we’re surrounded by purple and white and lavender and mauve, and they smell like all the prettiest things in the world. We gently pull them off, creating small bouquets in the center of our hands.
And the lilacs remind me of Your love.
“Look at them, Aliza,” she whispers. “Isn’t it amazing how God created these flowers purely for our enjoyment?”
I look at her and I see You.
I look at the blooms and I feel Your love.
We gather ourselves back into the car and head home, and when we get there she puts the lilacs in that green redeemed jar - because we are redeemed, and the lilacs are Your love, and every time I look at them, I see You and her and my redemption.
And the lilacs remind me of Your love.
She smiles again when she smells them, and I smile, too. Because her smile has so much meaning these days. The simple spring flowers fasten so much joy into her heart, and I wonder why it's so hard for me to find simplistic beauty all around like she does.
I look at her. I look at the flowers.
These lilacs remind me of Your love.
I pray they always do.
