THOSE MIGHTY PANSIES

Pansies—they're kind of like those good, behind-the-scenes people who do their jobs faithfully but don't get much notice. Despite their fun faces and brilliant colors, pansies are not high-brow like roses or other fussy-to-care-for plants. I just keep mine watered, dead-headed, and leave them be. They die at the first heavy frost, but some struggle back in the spring, soon joined by fresh bedding plants from a local garden center..

I've learned that pansy petals can be used in salads, desserts, and drinks, though I've never tried that. I can just imagine placing a lovely bowl of salad on the table, boiled eggs and pansies crowning it, and my guests raising their eyebrows, like, Are they poisonous? Are you really a friendly person? Just kidding on the life-threatening “what-ifs.” But the word “friendly” is really good adjective for pansies, as their job description includes "attracting bees, butterflies, and other beneficial insects."

Alas, some people have sullied the good reputation of this bright little flower, by applying its name as slang for someone who is weak, timid, lacking in courage, or not masculine enough. Good grief. I'm just glad that God's Creation Manual didn't stop at “plain plants.” Though not stout, striking, or huge like some of the plant kingdom, these little flowers (compared to monkey faces) certainly have a rightful place in horticultural life. They're not like the bad-boy flowers on botany's “nightshade” family—whew! (You can do your homework about bad-boy plant relatives at this site: dangerous common flowers in the nightshade family - Search )

I can see some spiritual analogies as I read about their care. They need full sun to partial shade, just as I need the full sun of God's love, and the partial shade of God's protection. They do best in well-drained and slightly acidic soul, just as I don't want to be flooded by negativity or wilt under potent, acid accusations. Slightly acid, sprinkled in love—okay. Who of us doesn't need the “brace” of deserved, loving spiritual correction?

Their best soil conditions are moist but not soggy. Just as I need the water of God's love and Word sprinkled into my life, I have to be sure my pansies get regular water. Not floods, not an arid desert, just enough for their “makeup” to keep growing and blooming.

Oh yes, their flowers are short-lived and need dead-heading. That compares with my “spiritual pruning,” known as confession, allowing God to take away that which doesn't contribute to “blooming for Him.” Withered habits and weary attitudes need snapped away and dumped to make room for new, healthy personal growth. Who of us hasn't been in need of that?

Otherwise, these little flowers do a decent job of “Bloom where you are planted”--  which, of course, is a phrase still used in conversation and apt to show up on a mug in a souvenir shop. And, thanks to pansies, a saying that continues to come to mind as they smile from the soil. 😊

SURPRISE!

Who would have expected this—a pert little pansy squeezing out of a cement crack in my home's foundation? Yet there it was, just inches from the porch that leads to my front door. I didn't plant it, though “nature” might have, via last year's “pansy family” just across the walkway in wooden pots. Those former plants, removed after the first frost, had just been replaced with new, just-blooming pansies punched out of a plant nursery's plastic tray “starting bed.” My tiny surprise “volunteer” had to be an offspring of last year's pansies, somehow wind-seeded there and now growing out of the “crack.”

My surprise pansy won't last long. It gets full afternoon sun and will soon wither. But it will help me smile for a week or so as I go in and out of the house. It reminded me of an old saying about resilience: “Bloom where you are planted.” Even though I didn't plant this particular flower, it celebrated its “pansy personality” in the most unlikely way.

“Bloom” can be a verb meaning “to open, blossom, sprout, or mature.” The saying is often a metaphor for people who thrive despite challenging environments. Their lives aren't perfect—maybe because of a family situation or their own problems—but the possibility of shining-forth in the world is still out there. They adapt. Persist. Produce fruit (or blooms) despite life's tough places. Bring special beauty to this often ragged world.

We don't always have a choice in where our lives are “planted.” Family tragedies, poor personal choices, and things beyond our control may plop us in a “life garden” we never expected. But God remains the Master Gardener. His “garden care” for life includes:

*Staying rooted in Him, focused on growing spiritual strength, not on our circumstances.

*Becoming fruitful wherever He plants us. Classic spiritual quote on this: Jeremiah 17:7-8—the passage that starts with God's declaration, “For I know the plans I have for you”--with its analogy of a tree planted by a nourishing source of water.

Before long, the heat coming off the cement sidewalk will “cook “ this pansy to a withered stem. Yet--despite its brief life of blooming in a very unlikely, hostile place—I am grateful. It didn't pout or complain. It just lifted up its happy face to declare in a quiet way: No matter how long I last, despite my negative “planting place,” I will do what I was created to do: glorify God the Creator.

By the way, the saying “Bloom where you are planted” is quite old, attributed to St. Francis de Sales (1567-1622), Bishop of Geneva. He's recorded as saying this: “Truly charity has no limit; for the love of God has been poured into our hearts by His Spirit dwelling in each one of us, calling us to a life of devotion and inviting us to bloom in the garden where he has planted and directing us to radiate the beauty and spread the fragrance of His Providence.”