If you ask me, and some have, what my favorite flower is, I would currently respond that it is the Plumeria/frangipani, a tropical flower that I loved in Hawaii and Florida and have grown here in Texas. I love it because of its vibrant colors, it’s amazing fragrance and the way it returns me to the beach of my youth every time I smell it.
But with that said the flower that has embraced my mind because of it’s beautiful long green stocks and deep purple hue has always been the iris. I even went so far as to hire someone name Iris in Florida just because of her name. Turned out she wasn’t near as good as her name but I was willing to give it a shot. The iris and it’s purple color (because purple is one of my all-time favorite colors) has had a place in the artwork in my home as well.
I grew irises very successfully while in Kansas City. I think I had literally hundreds of them. When they were all in bloom it was a glorious thing to see. But my ability to grow them in either Florida or Texas has not been successful. I’ve seen others grow irises in Texas but try as I did I could not make it happen.
I have continued to struggle, struggle mightily, with some crossing of drug interactions between the need to keep my blood pressure low and my blood sugar contained and a few other issues. It has been very, very difficult for me. And it is a struggle that while my family supports me it is I that must fight the side effects is they rage on in me.
The last 24 hours have been some of the worst times of my life in terms of feeling miserable and struggling to find a bright spot. And I guess in this time of Lent, struggle and adversity are what it is all about.
But how gloriously pleased I was to see this little miracle occur right in my own garden. You see, while I had given up on thinking the iris would come to Texas for me, I had not given up trying. And yesterday, when I saw a hint of purple out of the corner of my eye, I thought it must be a mistake. I thought it could not be the glorious Iris opening to the sun on a spectacular Texas day.
But indeed the irises opened its bloom to me in Texas. And I can’t help but wonder if it wasn’t part and parcel of what I have called the 100 hours of frozen hell that we had this year which successfully killed so many of my other tropical plants. Perhaps, the sturdy, hearty, northern Iris needed that cold to set it’s buds in motion.
I am rejoicing in the light of the Lord. I am grateful for the sign of resurrection, a new life, as there are just days left before Easter. And it is the perfect reminder for me to keep trying, to keep my chin up and know that this too will pass.
As always, thank you for riding along.