We celebrate flowers for their unapologetic beauty, for their audacious sense of entitlement to brilliance. And then, in our uniquely human way, we pluck them and keep them in vases in our dining rooms, or give them to loved ones to spark romance or reconciliation. We attempt to harness something of their energy to infuse into our own lives, cloyingly holding them to our breast the way a child might smother an unsuspecting kitten. Yet, soonafter, the flowers wither in our vases and clutching hands, leaving us with dried-up stalks and blowing seeds.
What is it that we seek from flowers?
Imagine a person interacting with the world the way a flower might - wandering down the street with a big smile on their face and announcing to the world how beautiful and worthy of love they are. Imagine them looking at others in anything but disbelief if they were not unconditionally adored and showered with love and light. We would likely say, "who the hell does this person think they are?", or mutter disdainfully "they act like they're God's gift to the world!"
Unfortunately, too often we present ourselves, and each other, with a much different fate than flowers. Instead of simply acknowledging that we really are God's gift to the world, and celebrating that light in ourselves and others, we decide to cloud the skies with our own judgements and statements about right and wrong. We decide to stop simply trusting the light. We become weeds.
It's no wonder we got kicked out of the Garden.
It is a quintessential quest of spirituality to find our way home from this wilderness of weeds we create in our lives. It begins with shamlessly claiming our own God-given right to love, beauty, and light, and continues by allowing, giving, and defending that same right in others.
Ultimately, we decide whether our lives flower, or become choked by weeds.
What will grow from the seeds you have planted?
