The greatest webs of loyalty are spun, not with airtight theologies or foolproof philosophies, but with friendships; stubborn, selfless, joyful friendships. Max Lucado; Everyday Blessings: 365 Days of Inspirational Thoughts

She texted me this past Saturday morning, excitedly asking if my lilac bush was blooming. Of course, it wasn’t, but her text included a photo of a lovely bloom cluster just outside her dad’s former workshop door. It’s October! Lilacs?

OK…I got a little ahead of myself, and I need to fill in some gaps. You see, amidst all the blessings I enjoy in this life, there is Jennifer. And, until last January, when she went to be with Jesus, there was Virginia, her mom. If you believe in angels, as I do, these two fit the description. They have shared the bounty from their vegetable garden, as well as bulbs, rhizomes, and starts from perennials. They watched over our house when we were away. Most importantly, they shared their time with us. They folded us seamlessly into their family and made us feel at home in our little town,

Though we never met Jennifer’s dad, we almost feel we know him from the many tales we’ve heard about their family. Jennifer and her family know just about everyone in our small town and are related to about half the town’s population. That’s fertile ground for a lifetime of stories.

Jennifer is a nurse and a natural caregiver. She cared for both parents throughout their health issues in their later years. Though she and her husband have a home nearly forty miles away, they also live across the street from us about half the time and maintain both homes. He works out of Springfield and she in Branson, so it was a good jumping off point for them while Virginia was with us, and it still continues to be.

 This is a family that has always enjoyed growing things…things to eat and pretty things, so I fit right into the fabric of their lives. Before we lived here, our house had been home to Jennifer’s Aunt Butch. They shared a love of gardening and enjoyed many adventures together. We kept all of her aunt’s garden spaces intact for a number of years and even added some new ones, but it all got to be a bit much for us to manage, so when we decided to eliminate bed space, we had a digging party. Jennifer and her sister came over with shovels and pots, carefully lifting plants that had begun their lives under the watchful eye of their aunt and then became mine. The one plant we left untouched was the lilac bush.

Gardeners that we both are, Jennifer and I trade plants back and forth. When one of us needs to thin something out or finds a bargain in the garden center, we always share. This great family became a gift to us that is priceless, but it sure is hard to say thanks. In fact, every time we try to do something to show our thanks, they give something right back to us. I guess that’s how it should be with friends.

This year has been tough for Jennifer, recalling all the memories of family, some now in heaven and others scattered around the country. The big family get-togethers happen less frequently now. But we get together as a surrogate family and share stories about times past. We laugh a lot and sometimes cry, but we always enjoy time together.

The last time we got together before Virginia left this earth was a celebration of her ninety-fourth birthday. She was so lovely that evening, as she always was. Her beautiful, snowy white hair was gleaming, she was all dressed up for the occasion, and she enjoyed every moment of her party. We ate some of her favorite foods and shared more stories, even some repeats. Virginia couldn’t see very well and her hearing was poor, but she tried to follow along as best she could, and she was happy just knowing her “family” was enjoying the time together. In just a few days, she was gone but never forgotten.

And that brings me back around, full circle, to those lilacs. You see, both bushes, Virginia’s and ours, were starts from a bush on their old farm place, still in the family. Those bushes shared a life in another place before gracing our two yards, siblings of a sort. In the spring, when life is beginning to stir, Jennifer and I compare notes on the progress of all our perennials, and the lilacs have a prominent place in our musings. So, naturally, Jennifer wanted to know if our lilacs were sharing the October phenomenon that her bush was displaying. But, alas, ours was just turning brown in honor of the season. The answer is simple: God was giving her one of those little miracles that are with us every day if we take the time to notice them. Virginia was letting her daughter know that she was still watching over her, just like always. I was reminded once again that we must always honor those angels who now reside with Jesus and are keeping vigil over us day and night. And we should be grateful for those angels here among us, living like Jesus on their everyday walk through this life.

In the coming years, the gifts from my long-ago friends will bloom in the flower bed of a person they never met. A sweet reminder that Jesus sends me friendships that never die. Stephanie Thompson, Mornings with Jesus 2025