As you can tell from the pic, my daylilies have seen better days. When they begin to bloom early in the season, I’m always happy to see the bright pop of yellow. By July, however, they have more brown leaves and dead shoots than I can keep up with plucking. All in all, they are just blah. Sure, there is some good left, a few blooms here and there, but by this time of year, the blooms seem to grow so near to the ground that they are hardly visible.
Last year my friend told me that her grandmother always cuts her daylilies back with good results. So this year, I’ve decided to try it. It’s been about two weeks now since I cut them back and so far so good. We’ve had some rain, so the new leaves are growing fast. (right) I just hope for new blooms at some point.
There’s a point to all of this besides daylily care. When I garden, God often shows me much about life. Some of my greatest revelations have come through gardening. This time, He was leading me to take stock of my new season, and to comfortably release what was once my main purpose. As a mother of now grown children, I’m in unchartered territory. It’s easier to know what to do and how to help younger children. Keep them relatively clean, feed them, help them with school work. In this new season of their adult lives, I find myself wanting to do more than I should. I want to fix things they need to fix for themselves. I want to help when my help will only likely hinder. They have to grow and learn – even from their mistakes.
As I cut the old leaves away, ones that were once beautiful and colorful, I saw myself. I’m not a young mom now. That causes sadness so real it’s nearly palpable. They aren’t little and gooey and cute any more. I’m no longer the center of their universe, and if I’m healthy, they can’t be mine.
Yes, being a mom of little guys was a wonderful season, but now there’s new work ahead of me, a new season of growth. I have to prune back the old to allow the new to breathe. I have to cut back what was once receiving all my energy in order to allow new leaves and stems and blooms to flourish. I still have much to offer my children, but it needs to be based on a healthy relationship, not one where I’m hanging on because I worry about them, or because it’s comfortable for me to still focus on what I know.
It’s scary to let God have their messes, but since I’ve seen me on even my best day, I know He’s way more capable of directing their future than I am. And it’s not just about them and wanting to “do” for them. You know what I mean if you have children who are getting older. For years they were your identity. You were Mom. Now, with children who need you less, who are you? That’s what the new season is all about, allowing God to show you and me who we are to Him and who He wants to transform us into. There’s no telling what’s there beneath all the browning old leaves. We have to allow Him to cut them away. You and I have a new season to bloom, older mom. Some of God’s best blooms can come out of this season. Don’t underestimate the plans he still has for you. He has better days ahead.
From one mom to another, no matter your season or if you are a spiritual parent rather than a biological one, I’m saying, it’s okay to step into a new season. Allow yourself to grow and blossom wherever you’re planted.
Many blessings and blooms to you,