Friday, July 03, 2009

Walking Through Wildflowers

Today we were walking waist-high through walls of weeds and wildflowers. My children wandering in wonderment pocketing worms and grasshoppers while I, warily, watched for the more nefarious snakes and spiders.
Wow! I love alliteration. Fifteen minutes into our adventure I loosened up and began to enjoy our jaunt into the wonderland that is our front yard. My five-year-old daughter took my hand and led me fearlessly through the grass that brushed against her face on the way into the unknown. What lie ahead? Need it matter if she held my hand? Every two minutes or so she paused, knelt down and chose a flower. She dutifully handed each to me as if it were what she was born to do. And could it be that she was born to do just that? The cup of water that I had brought along to quench my thirst quickly turned into a vase, filling with clover, dandelions, daisies and a wide assortment of weeds. C’est la vie, perhaps this glass was brought along for just this purpose.
As we continued to wander, I paused to consider why children pick flower after flower and run with smiles and excitement to their mothers and place them proudly in mom’s waiting arms. I’ve noticed that children rarely keep flowers for themselves. They seem compelled to share the beauty that they encounter. And with whom do they share this beauty? With the object of their affection of course! What do they receive for their efforts? A smile, maybe a hug and most often a look of love that penetrates their very being causing pure joy to pour out of them with more smiles, laughter and a race to find more flowers.
At every turn I see beautiful blooms, each gift more surprising than the next. I bask in the warmth of a brilliant sun and a generous God who is compelled to share beauty because it is his very nature. I laugh out loud at the simplicity of today and the measured task of unwinding to enjoy the treasures with which God is wooing me. Me...the object of His affection? Why, of course! My smile widens, and my sense of longing is rekindled as I accept the gifts that surround me some unopened and others in full view. My walk back has taken on a new sense of expectancy. What lie ahead? I’m not sure, but need it matter if He holds my hand?

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