Seven years ago, my mother planted a lilac bush in our backyard, from a cutting we'd been given.  For seven years, we've watched it grow taller and produce leaves, but not much in the way of flowers.

This is the first year we've had it where we've had a good amount of buds.  This week, they began to bloom.  If you step close to the lilac bush now and bend a branch, you can smell that incomparable, unreproducible, scent of a lilac flower.  Next week, when the blooms are fully sprouted, you will be able to smell them from anywhere in the back yard.

It's often this way in life.  We plant seeds and then have to walk away and have patience, knowing that someday something beautiful may follow.  My sister planted lilacs at the same time as we did, and moved away from that house before they started to bloom. We may never see the end result of our actions.  That doesn't mean they aren't worth doing.

This year, with YASC, I will be lucky to plant some seeds.  I will probably never go back to the Philippines  after my year of service there.  For the most part, I won't see the final blooms.  The seeds are still worth sowing.

Tomorrow I talk to the bishop, and then begin my fundraising drive in earnest.  When I have things set up, I will post a link to donate here on this blog.  I am grateful for the lesson of the lilacs, because I will need it in the months ahead.  Will you come and plant with me?