Ah, spring. That magical time when the snow finally stops pretending it’s welcome, and things start popping out of the ground in the spring garden like surprise guests at a potluck. Around here, spring means one thing: the perennials are back. You know, those glorious plants that somehow survive our gardening neglect and still show up like, “Hey! We lived!”
Let’s talk about asparagus and rhubarb—God’s way of reminding us that grace shows up early and often unannounced.
Asparagus: The Awkward Early Bird
Asparagus is the overachiever of the garden world. It’s the kid in Sunday school who already knows all the memory verses and brought a homemade flannelgraph. It pops up before you’ve even remembered where you put your gardening gloves. Those little green spears just burst out of the earth like they’ve had four shots of espresso and a motivational podcast.
And you know what? They’re wonky. Some are crooked. Some are suspiciously thin. One is clearly trying to grow sideways into the neighbor’s yard. But we don’t toss them out—we roast ‘em with olive oil and call it gourmet.
That’s grace. God looks at our weird, wobbly, premature attempts at growth and says, “I can use that.” We don’t have to be perfect. We just have to show up—awkward, early, and full of potential.
Rhubarb: The Drama Queen
Then there’s rhubarb. It arrives like a diva, unfolding giant leaves like it’s auditioning for The Lion King. It’s tart, bold, and not even pretending to be subtle. Rhubarb doesn’t care if you like it—it knows it belongs in pie.
Sometimes I feel like rhubarb. Loud, a little much, and definitely not everyone’s cup of tea. But grace says, “You were fearfully and wonderfully made. Even if your leaves are bigger than your fruit right now, you’ve got a purpose. And yes, it includes strawberry jam.”
Life Lessons from the Spring Garden
Spring plants don’t try to outdo each other. Asparagus isn’t jealous of rhubarb’s flair. Rhubarb doesn’t mock asparagus’s weird hairdo. They just grow when it’s time. They do what they were created to do.
That’s grace.
God isn’t waiting until we have it all together. He’s not holding off on loving us until we’re “fully mature” and Instagram-ready. He meets us in the messy early growth—when we’re fragile, awkward, and maybe a little bitter. And He says, “This is good. Keep going.”
So let’s be like the asparagus and rhubarb—rising up, showing up, and letting God do the rest.
And if all else fails, at least we’ll end up in a pie.
Blooming in God’s Timing (Even If It’s Weird)
Here’s the thing: asparagus doesn’t get jealous of rhubarb’s flair, and rhubarb doesn’t side-eye asparagus for being skinny and early. They grow when it’s their time. They do their thing.
And in their own odd little ways, they feed us.
That’s the grace I’m learning to gather: I don’t have to grow like someone else. I don’t have to bloom on cue or be everyone’s flavor. I just have to rise when God says rise.
Because He’s not asking for perfection.
He’s asking for presence.
From God’s Word
“Let us then approach God’s throne of grace with confidence, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help us in our time of need.”
— Hebrews 4:16
Even when we’re fragile shoots or dramatic stalks, His grace is already there—growing wild, sweet, and completely out of season.
And honestly? If grace shows up looking like pie, I’m here for it
What have your plants been teaching you lately? Share a spring garden moment or spiritual takeaway in the comments!
If you enjoyed this, check out ‘The Beauty of Waiting: Embracing the Differences in Marriage’