Mums

 

I am not a great gardener.  I am even worse at keeping house plants alive.  So after several years of my autumn mums dying in their pots on my porch, I now just buy one every season and plant it and see what comes of it.  

The one from three years ago is amazing.  It is full and a gorgeous deep color and makes me smile every time I see it.  

But you know what? In April, when my tulips looked grand, that mum was pretty plain and barely noticeable. 

In May and June when the roses came with a burst of fragrance, color and beauty, the mum quietly took back seat. 

Through the irises, peonies and all the other flowers whose names I don't remember, it kept nourishing it's core and waiting.  

And then in October, when the days were shorter and the nights were cooler, it's time came and in full splendor and glory the mum had its turn for beauty and success.  

The mum didn't worry about what the other plants were doing or how it compared.  

Neither should we.

Far too often we end up comparing ourselves to those who may be at a different season. 

In one of my favorite addresses, President Dieter F Uchtdorf cautioned, "I want to tell you something that I hope you will take in the right way: God is fully aware that you and I are not perfect.

Let me add: God is also fully aware that the people you think are perfect are not.

And yet we spend so much time and energy comparing ourselves to others—usually comparing our weaknesses to their strengths. This drives us to create expectations for ourselves that are impossible to meet. As a result, we never celebrate our good efforts because they seem to be less than what someone else does."

It may be true that someone else appears to be blooming more now.  But your season is coming.  Some are shorter and some are longer, they come in a variety of colors shapes and sizes.  But all are beautiful.  

Just like my mums.