Flowers

Is there anything more beautiful and pure then flowers? I think not. 

 “The best remedy for those who are afraid, lonely or unhappy is to go outside, somewhere where they can be quiet, alone with the heavens, nature and God. Because only then does one feel that all is as it should be and that God wishes to see people happy, amidst the simple beauty of nature.” – Anne Frank

 In a world so consumed by evil, overridden and spoiled by fear, steeped in anxiety, growing crime rates, murder, human trafficking…I’m certainly not naive to this brutal fallen world. But when I walk by a bunch of spring pink Hydrangeas, drive along the interstate and see a sprawling sea of yellow wildflowers, in the midst of the night smell a blooming jasmine bush, hope becomes tangible. It’s why I love keeping fresh flowers in my home. It is a near reminder that beauty is important that though we live in the fallen world, my savior cares that I am happy and dwelling in eternal moments. Heaven on Earth. 

 When I walk through flower markets or just my Saturday morning farmers market and I pluck a few stems of wild and beautiful flowers to put by my bedside or dining room table I am filled with a simple joy. What is more Organic, what is more spiritual, what is more tangible then flowers? A delightful array of the splendor of my King. I worship Him when I enjoy His beauty His marvelous creative hand that crafted each bud, petal, and leaf. That’s how I believe my God works here in this fallen place so removed from His original design. In whispers of hope, in rays of warm sunshine, in a field of wild flowers. He is calling His creation back. Reminding us all is not lost. He cares. He sees. He knows. He is in control. He reigns. He is Alive. He is Returning to His creation. Eternity and Heaven on Earth are creeping through the cracks of the soil. 

 Even the fleeting life span of flowers is remarkable. I’ve no Green thumb but my mother has the most amazing garden. She craves putting her hands deep into the soil and planting new varieties of roses and other plants. But I kill even the simplest house plant. The ones you don’t even really need to water. Hence why I prefer freshly picked bouquets weekly. Just put in a pretty vase and enjoy. Simple enough. But there is a fragility. A lesson I learn as I throw the dead arrangement’s out to replace with a new one. Everything here is fleeting. We are not in control. We are not the Gods that run this place. If we were don’t you imagine we would have figured out a lot more by now? I’m reminded of how fragile even my life is. A hopeful 100 year span or an average 78 years. I am inspired that every moment matters. Every one. Each sacrifice. Each discipline. Each morning spent reading the Bible. Each evening spent in prayer. Even the moments with my sweet friends. Even a delicious meal. Even that fight. Also that moment of rudeness. That time I lacked grace. 

 Moments wither and fade. But they leave an impression, a residue, a feeling. Like the different flowers I’ve seen. I no longer posses them, they where fleeting and now are a distant memory. I remember the flowers my brother sent me for my first homecoming dance in High School a small basket with tiny pink roses. The ones my friends pitched in to get me for my last Birthday tropical and rich. The baby’s breath my roommate gave me. The flowers pressed and preserved in-between the pages of my favorite book reminding me of when I found them with my favorite fourth grade teacher. They leave me with moments. With memories. I want to be like a fragrant flower. I wish in my fleeting time to enrich people’s life with beauty and fullness. Filling this world with hope. Glimmers of the goodness of what is returning. Of the joy and happiness and delight we were created for. A life of worship.