Several months ago I received a geranium, and it has spent the summer happily in our sun porch, soaking up the warmth and getting watered on a fairly regular basis.
With the approach of autumn we brought it inside. Sadly, in that placement it has received less care than it deserves. But while I was on my retreat last weekend, it started to bloom again:
The thing I found so interesting about this is that the rest of the plant is dying. If you look closely, you can see that only the top few leaves are green, while the rest have withered and are crackly brown. In such a state, it instinctively sent up a flower in an effort to reproduce.
Also, a few weeks ago I was walking my daughters home from school when the elder one picked a flowering plant from the curb. She managed to get the roots intact, and was eager to plant it, so I found an old sour cream container and gave it to her. She found some loose soil and gave the plant another chance to flower in our home. Lo and behold, today it too started to send up a blossom.
This strikes me as amazing, for we live in an age where we view reproductivity as a burden and something to be shut down in order to enjoy life. Yet the flowers of the field know that producing offspring is the difference between life and death; between eternity and obsolescence. Without a next generation, there is no hope on earth for the living.
It pains me when I hear of married couples - Christian ones at that - who say they don't want children. I'm sure that many of them eventually give in to the biological instinct to reproduce, but even to start from that barren perspective is foolishness. Creating life is miraculous; plants and animals do it all the time and each time is a full-blown miracle. How much more so for we people who are created in the very image of God? If God creates us to be like him, we instantly know that we too must create, for that is what he did. It's like looking at a reflection of a reflection; it goes on and on and on.