The Parable of the Rainbow Rose

This story is a long'un, but it's worth it. Hang tight.

The following photo may appear to you to be of a rather pale-looking sprout, poking its poor little leaves quite glumly out of an ill-kept flowerbed. The first time I saw this little guy I thought the same. But not anymore. 

NOW I SEE A BONIFIED MIRACLE, PEOPLE!!!

The story of this rather unassuming plant begins with my cleaning out our kitchen cupboards when Kevin and I had been married just shy of a month. Amidst the scattered spices in the cupboard I happened upon a small, transparent package of rather odd-looking dried-up clove-looking things. Perplexed, I asked my husband what he intended to cook with these. He snatched them out of my hands with a boyish look of excitement as he exclaimed that these are his rainbow rose seeds he ordered for less than a dollar, all the way from China!

I was a skeptic. No matter how convincing those EBAY adds might have been, I was sure that these "rainbow rose seeds" were duds and that they would never amount to anything but delusions of botany.

Kevin planted the seeds in late June in a medium-sized plastic blue flower pot we bought from Target. He watered the potting soil at least every three days, waiting for a sprout to arrive. He watered all of July. And August. And September. And October. I'll admit, I was a little smug. Of course they hadn't sprouted! What kind of gardening promises can you believe if they are coming from an EBAY vendor? 

A little green appeared at the beginning of November. You should have seen Kevin's mighty delight as he crossed our apartment in two long strides, pot in hand, to show me HIS rainbow roses.  It's just a weed deposited by the wind, I thought. But Kevin--faithful and determined--looked up just about every type of rose sprout on the internet and showed me the resemblance.

The rainbow roses were alive and growing strong.

IN NOVEMBER.

Baffled and beaten, I was hesitant and grumpy about this infamous little seedling. Kevin brought it inside and watched after it and loved it and became even more of a giddy kid with every centimeter it grew.

And then one fateful day during Christmas break 2015, Kevin and I set it outside in the cold in an attempt to freeze the fruit flies that surrounded it. Of course, we froze the plant too. 

Needless to say, it died.

We didn't think or talk much about it after that. I had thrown the remaining seeds away back in August or so, and Kevin was bugged with me for that for a half-second, and then we moved on. We left the plastic blue pot on the porch to gather snowflakes.

April came. This time it took us longer to notice, but out of the forgotten potting soil sprouted three little seedlings of the same green complexion, with the same leaf shape and stature as the first. They were revived! We were delighted with this unexpected recovery and this time around, I was impressed. I watered them and made sure they got plenty of sun. When June rolled around, the roselets had grown so tall we decided to transplant them.

To this day he doesn't know why he did it this way, but Kevin used a carving knife to get the roses out of the soil to transplant. In the process he destroyed their root system, and they shriveled up into a depressing brown crisp in the summer sun.

This loss affected me differently than the first. It was just a plant, sure. But I wanted to see what they grew into, and now I'd never have a chance! Why had they died? We had one plant resurrection before, there was no way we could expect another. I was mildly bothered. I loved telling others the story of our miracle plant that died and came back again. Of the legitimacy of Chinese EBAY Flower seed deals. Of going along with my husband's quirky ideas. But... What did we have to show for it? A blue plastic pot of dirt death.

So we let the pot bake in the summer sun, for all of July, August, September, and October. 

And just a few short days ago, in the midst of November rain, sprouted this little guy in the picture.

Thrice the sprout of the the rainbow rose seeds. 

I can't explain it--I don't know anything at all about the biological makeup and survival abilities of rainbow roses. But I do know that this little and seemingly insignificant happenstance in Kevin and I's lives has made me think extensively about my faith. 

I have seasons in my life where my spiritual strength seems unbeatable! The year I was baptized, my ninth grade year, most of my mission, and the middle months of 2015 are all moments in my life I felt invincible and unstoppable spiritually. In these moments I was at the peak of my strength, like the rainbow roses at their tallest. There was no doubt, fear, or heartache. I was strong in God!

Yet, in other moments--more often than I like to think about--I shrivel up in the summer sun. I wither of frostbite in that plastic blue pot. 

I feel I am trudging through a spiritual battlefield of proportions I had not anticipated, fighting devils of trials I never wanted to face, burdened down with such painful anguish of soul! I, like Nephi, lament my weaknesses and hardships. I cry in my pillow by night for the failings of myself and others.

Yet God--in his infinite mercy and perfect love--has given me the rain that brings me strength to grow and try again. When I feel all is lost and that there's no way he could replenish my broken spirit, he makes me strong in such unlikely circumstances. He gives me growth and renewal at times like November months, when no one would expect a little sprout to grow.  He has given me the atonement to refresh my well of faith over, and over, and over.

God be thanked for the matchless gift of his divine Son (The Living Christ), that gives me strength beyond my own to grow and grow and grow again, just like our rainbow rose.