I woke upon Monday morning a bundle of mixed emotions. I was tired and in pain as usual. (Thank you, Fibromyalgia). But I was hopeful and determined because I was launching a new company (check out NewSeason Books). I was disturbed by some things that had transpired the week before when I’d been used and discarded by someone I’d worked for and who’s true (poor) character revealed itself. But I was warm with the love that can only come from my daughter as she wrapped me in her hugs and pelted me with her kisses.
It was an interesting start of the day, no doubt.
However, the neutralizer of any negativity and the promoter of all that was good came from my Heavenly Father as I stepped out onto my porch, turned to look at my flower bed and came face to face with the first blooms of my sunflowers. That’s one of them in the pic up top. I named that one Grace. Just because.
Oh how I love God’s subtle reminders of his love; His wondrous confirmations that “all will be well.”
The blooming of a sunflower might not seem like a big thing to you. And maybe, in the big scheme of things, it isn’t. But you see, I know my sunflowers’ story.
They started as seed. As we all do. As every idea and vision does. And for a while, the sunflowers grew in relative peace. I watered them regularly. Did my best to nurture their growth. And when I slipped up…the rains came. And the sun. And all was well. Until…
Until the storm.
We had a raging storm pass through our town. The remnants of Hurricane Arthur, I think. And when I came outside, my sunflowers, which had grown to easily five and six feet tall, were bent over and damaged. I was devastated as most people are when a storm comes. In the sky or in life. But after a few days, I got about the business of recovery. There were some flowers that were broken and unfortunately, I had to cut them away. Snip. Snip. Gone. It’s tough to cut away things (and people) who can’t grow with the other “flowers” in your life, huh? The sturdier flowers, I tied together or to posts so that in time, they would stand upright again. They will stand again, I said. Despite the storm.
And lo and behold, on Monday…there they were. Blooming beautifully. Telling me their story and helping me with my own.
From that hour until I closed my eyes that night, no matter how mixed up I felt when I awakened, it was a good day.