“Every flower is a soul blossoming in nature.” ~ Gerard De Nerval
Uh, oh! Author Vanessa Diffenbaugh has created a monster. The monster was lying dormant, now it has now awoken. It is lurking inside of me.
Sunday morning I arose before the sun, as I usually do, determined to finish reading the book “The Language of Flowers.” The book creatively and divinely tells a fictional story of mending hearts through the power of love and through the gift of giving flowers. The emotional interpretation of a variety of flowers is told through the story line and the reader gains great insight into how flowers were used a long time ago to communicate what people were feeling. Like our range of human emotions, the story is not entirely pretty. Nevertheless, it is a deeply fulfilling read that really makes you ponder beyond a flower’s physical appearance.
I finished the book, and off to church I went. As I do every Sunday, I listened very carefully to every inspiring word our pastor had to say in his weekly reflections about the power of God’s love in our world. Our pastor is a gifted storyteller and communicator. He tells stories of faith and devotion, often with humor, that people walking on any path in life, from all neighborhoods and from all religious backgrounds, can draw from.
However, this Sunday, was a little challenging for me. During every moment of silence, I was constantly distracted and drawn to looking at the flowers on the altar to determine what was in the bouquet. I decided to write a few of them down, so I could return home and look up their meaning. From where I stood, I do believe I saw calla lilies (modesty), eucalyptus (protection), purple iris (message) and some ivy (fidelity).
Now, I am second guessing myself… there were purple iris, for sure. “But wasn’t there a stalk or two of larkspur (lightness) or maybe a bellflower (gratitude)? Did I see some aloe (grief)? Which flowers weighed more heavily in the overall arrangement” I implore.
Dear God! Help Me! I am working more than double duty, here! Not only do I have to go home to discern the signs of God’s love in my everyday life and in our world, but now, I have to interpret the revelations in the flowers on the altar, too! What am I going to do? My life is busy here with She Writes Steamboat and with other matters of independent publishing, as it is! Do I have time for more?
There must be help for an affliction like this! There is a balm in Gilead but, I think for now I will stay right here, overwhelmed or not.
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