In praise of... Iris Rejoice

We're coming to the end of January in unremitting, dull greyness. Sometimes I've noticed that the lights have gone on that little bit later in the afternoon, but often, on wet or sunless days, even this little sign of hope has been obscured. This past week, too, the greyness has been accentuated by passing the unenviable milestone of 100,000 deaths in the UK due to Covid19. Even with the hope, relief and light in darkness of the vaccination programme, we cannot forget our personal and collective losses: one hundred thousand people who were loved and are now achingly mourned; more than 100,000 people grieving, struggling and indelibly scarred.

January is generally regarded as a dismal month: it's even believed to contain a national nadir, known as Blue Monday, as this is when we're all supposed to be freezing, riddled with guilt about broken resolutions and facing the consequences of Christmas overspending. For me, though, January contains my birthday (yippee!) - as well as the anniversary of my entrance to religious life - so even the greyest of greyness contains brightness. This year my lockdown birthday led to some lovely zoom calls with other sisters, co-workers and good, well-missed friends, all part of the beatitude of God's gifts of life, love and friendship.

Two days after my birthday I planted these bulbs. I had treated myself to this little pot after Christmas, attracted as much by the iris' name as by their potential loveliness. Rejoice struck me as a good watchword to take with me into 2021, with all its anticipated challenges - and how better to remind myself than with some vibrant little irises, their petals open wide and upraised in exultation? 

They're currently incubating in the garden shed, as per the instructions. The other day, when I checked up on them, four pale blades had begun to rise through the compost. I addressed some motivating words to the space which should have contained the fifth blade... and was delighted to discover, earlier today, that it too has started to appear! 

So yes, there is much about the world which is dismal and grey. Much about me, too: I started the month with a flare up of my lower back pain, which has since migrated to my left hip and leg and become a somewhat baffling, rebellious - and very painful - form of sciatica. But there is also, as always, so much goodness, kindness and generosity; so many signs of God, alive and active in our world - and my work, though incredibly busy and full-on, does enable me to encounter them, daily. And there are signs of spring, too - little reminders that winter's inexorability will not be with us forever. Thus, as Iris Rejoice strengthens, greens and grows, rejoice remains within me, and accompanies me into February...