Things have been quiet around here lately. Last week my mother-in-law passed away, so we've been doing a lot of reflecting on the sweet memories we have of this lovely lady. A number of years ago I wrote a post about her. {You can find it here.} She was wonderful in so many ways.
Right around the same time we heard of her passing, these hyacinth bulbs we have in our home started flowering. This isn't the first time in my life there has been an association between death and life. One of our sons was born the day after my husband's grandmother passed. On the day I came home from the hospital after giving birth to a stillborn baby, I opened the car door and the smell of freshly mowed grass wafted over me. The comforting thought that came to me in this time of grief was, "Life goes on, and it will for you too." Years ago my father passed away the end of May, and I spent the next several weeks planting flowers and watching my garden come to life. Every Spring, when flowers are beginning to bloom and the earth is coming alive, the Savior's resurrection is celebrated.
These recollections of life being associated with death have real meaning to me. I've learned that along with death there is always life, and often something incredibly beautiful and unexpected happens to shore us up in our grief. Our flowering bulbs are evidence of this truth. I bought them right after Christmas and they happened to blossom at just the right time. How amazing {and comforting} is that?
I know it's a little thing, and some might call it coincidence, but I know better. A favorite quote of mine is by Neil A. Maxwell. He said, "...This word (coincidence) is understandable for mortals to use, but coincidence is not an appropriate word to describe the workings of an omniscient God. He does not do things by 'coincidence' but ... by divine design."
By recognizing these incidences as tender mercies from a loving Heavenly Father, we can see His hand in our lives. I'm grateful.
