Recently I brought home a pot of miniature daffodils from the grocery store. The anticipation of pert yellow blooms gave me hope for spring and warm sunshine. Though we’ve had more rain than snow this winter in Atlanta, I needed a boost of hope.
For several days, I watched them grow and then bloom as they sat on the corner of my desk. Whenever I looked at them, I smiled.
And then… they began to wilt. The leaves turned brown and drooped until wrinkled and faded blooms lay helpless on my desk.
I no longer smiled when I looked at them. I pined for the days of perky yellow happiness.
Then I realized… I can relate to how the flowers must feel about their decline.
I’ve had a tough year or so. I’m getting old. My prime is passed. I have wilted.
Circumstances beyond my control have left me drained...
Is my life almost over, too? Can I only expect to be treated like a flower that no longer matters? Will I be snipped off and tossed in the trash? Dismissed and forgotten?
And then, I remembered…
The flowers may be gone, but the plant is not dead.
The bulb, the life source, is still as strong as always.
After a brief rest, new stems will emerge from the soil and new flowers will bloom.
Just like me.
My life source is still strong and alive and growing, even though I feel the effects of my current wilted existence.
I have more flowers to share. All I have to do is rest and let my power source take over for me, to re-charge me and revitalize me.
I don't know when those new flowers will grow and bloom,
BUT THEY WILL BLOOM!
The Lord will fight for you; you need only to be still. —Exodus 14:14