My bleeding heart.

This is my bleeding heart bush. I have only one in my front planter. And it is my very favorite thing in early Spring. In fact, it fascinates me.

Just a few days ago, it wasn't even there. No one passing by would think there was something this beautiful ready to grow.

But grow it does ... even in less than ideal soil. It comes up behind my Aspen trees and surprises me every year. I really do forget that I have one until it shows up and reminds me why I planted one in the first place.

When I was first married, we lived in Southern California. And I really didn't know much about horticulture. In fact, I knew nothing. And living in Southern California, guess what? You don't really have to know much. You plant what looks pretty at the nursery, make sure your sprinklers hit it, and it grows.

I can remember having a Ficus tree on my front porch and cyclamens in pots by my front door one Christmas. Leslie came to visit that year and said she couldn't believe I still had flowers by my door.

Then I moved to Utah ... 14 years ago, and am still trying to figure out how to take care of the perennials I have planted. And it astounds me (astound is a rather bold word here, but truly, it astounds me) that every spring, what once looked completely dead and hopeless, turns around and brings forth new growth and color where there once was none.

I think it's a miracle. And God is good. And it reminds me of His goodness and glory ... because that miracle is a gift for all of us. And a sign of hope and renewal. And we can learn something from that lesson in nature.