Just a few days off to visit my parents. Little Cabin in the Woods. Roaring mountain stream keeping it company, and lodge pole pines touching heaven, swaying and creaking way up high like old wooden gates. I love that sound.
The kids grab willow branches with line and worm, hooked. Wiggle into secret spaces. Sacred. To catch their mess. Stark and still until their poles give a shiver, then they smile and shriek. Delight. Delighted. Hauling all that glory up onto the bank. They flop down laughing next to fish flopping while I take pictures of these children of mine lost somewhere in the deep grass. Oh, heaven.
Cold water from the spring makes my teeth ache, but coffee cooked over the fire warms all that I am. A bit burned out and smelling of smoke, I admit. Deep naps in that high mountain air refresh me almost as much as my fall into the creek. Face first. COMPLETELY under. Burning cold! A deep bruise on my shoulder and a big knot on my head seem a trivial price for all that laughter. A worthy purchase. I strip shivering bare 'neath the shelter of my mama's love. Wrapped up in it. Swaddled like the day I was born.
Still, my eyes stay glued to the forest floor, wide in wonder at all these wild flowers growing in the middle of nowhere. Delicate petalled fingers touch my soul so I pay attention. They dance on the mountain breeze, so low to the ground, tiny little things, growing in the cold, harsh environment.
Who will see them but me? Who will see the Lady Slipper, dancing for the King in her glorious, outlandish, pink shoes? The velvety purple Crocus, waving royal cup as an offering to HIM? Shooting Star, hand painted by God and shooting praise from low mountain ground to highest heaven? The Yellow Bell? The Blue Bonnet? The Wild Strawberry? The Butter Cup?
Contemplating.
These little wild flowers must know they were created by God. They are happy just to give Him glory. Even if no one ever notices. (That deep in the mountains?) When a body sees a flower like that, in a place like that, it says, "Wow! God!".
Oh! I want to be that flower! To live in such a way that people would see my life and say, "Wow! God!". That who I am, and all that my life is would bring attention and praise and glory back to HIM. MY Creator. Even if no one notices. Me driving the kids. Me doing the laundry. Me washing dishes, teaching the children, grocery shopping, swishing the toilets, etc. etc. and etc. Can I stay low to the ground? Humble? Can I stand the bitter cold? No one telling me that I'm doing a good job? A God job? Can I dance all the beauty that I am because of Whose I am as an offering back to the One? And be happy too?
Those precious little ones caught my heart, and I want to capture the lesson in their brave beauty.
I want to be a wild flower,
Bernadette
No comments:
Post a Comment