Sometimes we can feel like any one of the flowers
in this vase.
Blooming in colour with all its foliage.
Blooming in colour but having lost all its foliage.
A bud that has never opened to reveal the flower it was created to be.
A stem and the remaining pistil of a beautiful flower that once was.
A bent over stem with a bud that has now opened up to reveal its flower.
And yet that flower is not fully seen because it can stand up no more.
Why is it so?
All in the same vase.
All drinking the same water.
And then came this:
I bought a bunch of flowers for a friend.
And with it came a message to send.
Feeling compelled to by my own bunch.
So that on this message I could also munch.
Her card with the message arrived.
A photo she sent
Of how her flowers had thrived
To be that of a brilliant red
Except for two
That had blossomed pink instead.
I now recall
There was this one day
Before my buds had blossomed
Their water they’d drank away.
So I gave them more in abundance.
For resuscitation I would pray.
In that full bunch of red
I wondered why
Those two would be pink instead
And here it is
When my friend then said:
“The pink in my bunch
had a bend in their stem.
Drooping over the vase
I cut off the bend in them.“
“Could it be?
That the water they lack
by the bend in their back.”
Be they pink or red
While beautiful as either.
Could it be said?
That the depth in their colour
By how much water they swalla?
And so for those that remain:
Still flowering pink,
I trimmed each of their stem.
For the remaining bud,
I stood her alongside of them.
And for the flower with a bend in her back.
Who could stand up no more.
She now stands again as part of the pack.
Because I did what I could,
To remove that bend in her back.
If God is the florist.
Then He knows His craft.
As He trims and cuts at my being.
He’s creating a new draft.
He is removing the bend in my back.
If a friend were a flower
Then as a bud I’d choose
Blooms that would me empower.
Those who have been trimmed enough,
To stand alongside of me,
Through the rough and the tough.
Those that would choose
To help with the bend in my back.
It’s now 3 weeks since I bought that bunch of flowers for my friend,
and then another for myself.
And just this morning the last of the petals did fall.
Except for that of one last stem.
Yes! The one with the bend in her back.
The stem that I had to trim.
So that she could stand up again.
She is the one outlasting them all!
And so I wonder:
Could it be that the bend in her back,
Once removed and restored to stand up,
Made her the toughest in the pack?
We’re all on a journey. On my own journey I wish I had not encountered (or even chosen) some of the paths I’ve been on. But the reality is, we dont always get to choose. Sometimes it’s a case of:
STUFF HAPPENS ! ! !
But in learning from this bunch of flowers, I never would have imagined that for all this one flower went through, that she would show herself to be the last one standing.
She’s lost all but one leaf of her foliage, and her stem looks a bit discoloured, but she’s fully intact as a flower.
And I get to enjoy her pink beauty, as well as the message she carries, which she has shared with me as a result of her journey.
The second best part:
Knowing that I did my part in helping to remove the bend in her back.
The VERY best part:
To see her stand up again. To see her as the beautiful pink flower she was created to be.