"The Season Between Blossoms" - 10/22/25

Scripture

“As surely as the sun rises, he will appear;
he will come to us like the winter rains,
like the spring rains that water the earth.”
— Hosea 6:3 (NIV)

This morning at Vincent United Methodist Church...
 Friends gathered around the flower beds, their breath visible in the cool October air. The bright colors of summer had faded. Petals lay soft upon the soil, and the stems, once tall and strong, bowed low. With quiet hands, they lifted the last blossoms, loosened the earth, and gently gathered the canna bulbs to store them away for the winter.

The work was simple, almost tender. Yet in that quiet labor, something sacred unfolded.
The garden was teaching again.

Reflection
Each season carries its own kind of grace. There is the joy of blooming, when color fills the earth, and there is the grace of resting, when everything hidden prepares for new life. Winter is not an ending, but a pause—a deep breath in the rhythm of creation.

The bulbs that are lifted and kept inside will sleep for a time. Beneath the darkness, life will gather its strength. The waiting itself becomes holy, for God’s renewing work often happens where we cannot see it.

In our own lives, there are seasons that feel like winter. The garden reminds us that such seasons are not signs of absence, but invitations to trust. To rest. To believe that God is quietly tending the soil of our hearts. The promise of Hosea whispers that God will come “like the winter rains, like the spring rains that water the earth.” His presence does not depend on the brightness of our days. It comes faithfully, again and again, as steady as the sunrise, as sure as the rain.

To clear the beds is to practice faith—to say with one’s hands what the heart hopes: that what has died will live again, that what has rested will rise. The friends at Vincent Church were not only putting away flowers; they were making space for resurrection.

Perhaps this is what it means to walk with God through the changing seasons: to open our hands to what must be gathered in, to cherish what was, and to wait with hope for what will be. The same God who paints the flowers also holds their roots through the cold. The same Spirit who breathes life into spring holds us steady in the stillness of winter.

So, as the garden quiets, may we quiet our hearts. May we find rest in God’s patient rhythm. And may we learn to trust that even in the silence of winter, something beautiful is being prepared.


Prayer
O God of every season,
thank You for the rhythm of creation—
for the bright bloom and the quiet soil,
for the warmth and the waiting.
Teach us to trust You in the seasons of stillness.
Let the hidden work of Your Spirit
bring new life in its time.
Hold us, as You hold the earth,
in the gentle promise of spring.
Amen.