Sunflower Rhapsody

 I LOVE my flowers. I enjoy houseplants, too. Maybe it's because I love being surrounded by life and beauty. The last couple of years, I haven't had the money to buy any outside plants. But this year, I went ahead and splurged even though the budget was super tight. I am so glad I did! 

My inside, fully shaded patio has greenery and beautiful flowers hanging, creating a small haven where I can sip tea and read if I get a minute or two. My other patio has LOTS of sunshine most of the day, so this year I tried sunflowers, and I was not disappointed!

I've so enjoyed them, especially in the early mornings, they seem to be so happy, smiling, and waving good morning! I've never had sunflowers before, so I didn't know how they would do. They do take some tending, but they seem to be doing pretty good. But I noticed yesterday that there are lots of dead ones, lots of beautifully bloomed ones, and plenty all ready to open up at next morning's light! 

I hadn't really noticed how many of them are done with their blooming cycle. The blooming flowers are so bright and cheery, I'd overlooked the dead ones. (Am I supposed to cut them off, or what? lol) Then I thought of how the plant reflects caregiving.

There are some things about caregiving that are beautiful and shareable. We look at those moments and think, This is beautiful, and it's okay. It's the way it should be. But while we are still savoring the moment, something beautiful is right behind us became faded and droopy. They were okay in their moment. They were great and beautiful in their day. But that day has passed, and they offer a sad reminder of what was. These represent parts of us (the caregiver) that have died. 

Right in the middle of great beauty and death are flowers that have not yet opened up. We wait. And wait. And hope for their beauty to be displayed soon. But we can't quite see it, only a hint of what might be. What an emotional plant, this sunflower! Lol. 

As I look at my plant with all the various stages of sunflowers, I wonder if God looks at us that way. Maybe He smiles at the beauty we display when trusting Him for another day. Perhaps He is excited at what beauty is to come soon! He's overjoyed knowing how beautiful the next cycle of flowers will be! And maybe, just maybe, He feels sadness at those flowers that have passed and are shriveled and brown. One thing is certain: He sees it all. He gets it all. He gets all the whys and whatfors that shape the cycles of our lives. He smiles and rejoices at the beauty, and is sad at the death. However, remember that it takes the death of a seed to bring a whole new plant to life! 

Today, I'll remind myself that God can see past the dead spots in my life. He doesn't focus on the things that have died, He sees the dried shriveled flowers as the chance at new life! I'll think about how He looks at us and smiles because He knows that there is much more beauty to come, even in the heat of summer. He knows there is hope. He knows there is new life to follow. He understands the entire blooming cycle. And He gets life. Even a life that was disrupted by tragedy, or caregiving, or the new normals we adjust to over time. He gets it all. And He gets me. He gets you. And focuses on the beauty and the hope of another day. I believe I can trust Him for one more day. Will you join me?

Check out one of my best-selling books - 31 Days in Psalm 31. It's a devotional taken from Psalm 31 (obviously!) - a time when David was hiding in a cave from Saul - even though he'd been anointed the next king. The social isolation of caregiving can certainly make it feel like we live in a cave, but God is there with us. And that's what this 31-day devotional is all about: exploring and discovering God in the caves of life. You can get the eBook from my shop at Buy Me A Coffee, or the print and Kindle versions are available in my Amazon Shop.