I Believe in Spring

What do you believe?
Here we are on the eve of Spring with Easter fast approaching. Is your home awash with pastel rabbits and pigs? Porcelain ducks with perpetually smiling beaks?

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What do you believe?

Here we are on the eve of Spring with Easter fast approaching. Is your home awash with pastel rabbits and pigs? Porcelain ducks with perpetually smiling beaks? Have you hung wooden signs welcoming the new season replete with weathered flowers and baskets of eggs? Have you bought jelly beans and plastic eggs and hid them in the closet next to the yellow easter basket with its white and milk chocolate bunnies, Mn’Ms and glittering sneakers? Do you already have pink and green plastic grass tangled in your shoes? Have you ordered your daughter’s dress? And when her shoes didn’t come did you order another pair? And when THEY were delayed also did you overnight some refusing to give in? Are you getting up at the crack of Dawn on Sunday to hunt for eggs, then going to church ALL DAY LONG and then eating lamb until you pass out in a melee of embroidered skirts, glittering heels and half eaten chocolate rabbits.

What do you believe?

Is it Easter with its eggs and rabbits and obvious fertility symbolism? Or is it the resurrection of Jesus Christ who suffered and died on the cross and then three days later rose again? Because the miracle of His life is the miracle of our lives. Spring is the beginning of all things. New life emerges. Our tables are covered with delicate green buds of every vegetable and flower you can think of. My daughter loves to walk around slowly inspecting each tender leaf, exclaiming “This one is bigger, I can tell!” She has a Hello Kitty Chia Pet who had slimy seeds for days until finally it sprouted a thick green afro which my daughter finds immensely pleasurable. “Look at her hair” She cries. “She likes to watch me eat!” I think how strange and simple her world is. I think of how beautiful she is and yet how she was born of blood and pain. How all of my children greeted the world in a river of blood and pain. I didn’t notice the blood. I forgot the pain. I held new life in my arms and it was heaven. I think of the blood and the pain of Jesus, that which he endured. Whether you think he is just a children’s fable or the true Son of God he represents new beginnings, new life, and the conquering of death. Just as the tulip flower is cut from the bulb and the petals fall, so the bulb lies dormant in winter and will bloom again in a glorious God-given springtime.

What do you believe?

Do you believe in luck? Do you believe in atonement for sins committed in this life? Do you believe you’ll be rewarded for your good deeds on earth, or in Heaven? Do you believe somethings are worth dying for? According to an article in Mother Nature’s Network, in 17th century Amsterdam a single tulip bulb called the Semper Agusta was enough to buy one of the grandest homes and people went literally mad for them. It is a truly striking bloom, pure white with streaks of garnet running through it like blood. Surprisingly however its rare beauty was due to a virus. Esther Inglis-Arkell wrote in The Virus that Destroyed the Dutch Economy that the beauty of the Semper Agusta is due to a Tulip Breaking Virus transmitted by aphids. The pigmentation is changed due to a altered distribution of anthocyanin who’s color differs depending on the PH of the surrounding soil. This information was not known until the 1900s however, long after “Tulip fever” had collapsed the dutch economy. Botanists now breed a different kind of tulip, one that mimics the broken relics of classic paintings and ruined lives. By selectively breeding “Rembrant Tulips”(named for the Dutch painter who captured so many “broken tulips”) with colors that dive and careen against a placid white background we are able to catch a glimpse of how beautiful a broken thing can be.

Purified
Clean white heart
Soundless liquid pouring
Something odious filling the room
And again breath like cold meat.
Prayers raised fluttering on anxious wings
And again atonement for the first sin
A heaviness falls, a pressing.
A fire left burning, almost ashes and charred wood.
My throat closes as I open my mouth,
Bitter truths rush in past the barrier.
Choking, choking on my reality,
Gasping in a windowless airless room.
I feel the blood between my legs
And I think the red streaks on my white nightgown
Are beautiful… like the Broken Tulip.

Author: bravelybipolargirl

I’m a writer and stay-home mother of three. I live with my husband, mother and 4 1/2 year old daughter in Wasilla, Alaska. My two teenage sons 14 and 16 spend summers and holidays with us. I am diagnosed bipolar 1 with psychotic features and my mission is to eradicate the stigma of mental illness in our society.

2 thoughts on “I Believe in Spring”

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