My Tulip Field

We arrive on a classic Spring day in the outskirts of Portland to a field of colors as far as the eye could see.  From a distance, the landscape looks as if it's been painted in hues that are so vibrant, so alive, so jovial, all you can do is draw near to find out the mystery behind it.  With each step, the view becomes clearer and brighter, and the field of colors becomes thousands upon thousands of individual tulips planted together to make this breathtaking display.

Cameras are snapping all around me.  Mine comes out of my pocket, and I begin capturing the essence before me.  I look around.  "It's been awhile since I've seen so many people smiling," I overhear one sojourner tell another.  My lips are curved towards my ears as well; I'm one of those "so many people," and I don't need to look far in order to see the hand of the One who has handcrafted each of these delicate tulips. My children take off running down the thin aisles with radiance in their eyes. "This is like Heaven," one of them says. For this moment I agree; it's hard to picture more beauty than what is before me, but I know that Heaven is far beyond our wildest imaginations in splendor and glory.

We walk.  We run. We climb over the magnificence of pink, red, yellow, orange, white until we're buried in its beauty.
I learn that: "If you dig up a tulip bulb in midsummer, it's not the same bulb you planted last fall. It's her daughter. Even while the tulip is blossoming, the bulb is dividing for the next generation" (almanac.com).  It knows just what to do.  It passes on its purpose.  It passes on its grace and whimsical beauty. 
With arms out to their sides, laughter permeating my ears, and joy that makes all problems cease, my children run towards me through the pigments that make them glow.  I think about the tulip and her bulb, and I look at them. The work is done underneath, in the ground.  The hard places.  The rich places.  The places that have room for the growth to happen...in the heart of the soil.  
We won't always be able to look in front of us and see this field of tulips, but we have our own tulip field in the four corners of our home, and I hope and pray we are passing on the purpose, grace and whimsical beauty of this life to the next generation.