I sit here at my desk on this cold, sunny Saturday. We moved my office downstairs last week which puts me right in the middle of the all the action. I hear Brandon singing in the bathroom to my right, which every now and then turns to a narrative of ninjas and pirates battling to the death (he’s acting out all the parts, of course). I’m battling too here at this desk because Resistance always shows up the moment I start to feel brave.
I see Donny out the front window with the little girls playing beside him in their fairy world built into a hollow mossy tree stump in the yard. I watch him turn his face to the sun and it thrills me. I watch him for a while as he stands silently, the warmth washing over him like a baptism. I think… that must be how God speaks to him. In the warmth of the sun, with his hands in the dirt, fresh air in his lungs and the sense that his grandfather, the farmer, walks beside him in the garden.
I hear Brandon belting out a song and think… this must be the way God speaks to him. Through imagination and wonder and solitude. I watch the girls skipping around their fairy world, their faces aglow with delight and I think… this must be the way God speaks to them, in play. Gracie peeks in on me with a book in her hands and an exciting story about an idea she is trying to work through. I can’t help but think… perhaps this is her secret language with the divine.
In the middle of all my thinking, I didn’t realize that Donny had come in and was standing beside my desk with a handful of daffodils from the garden. “Honey, see, they didn’t die! They came back to life in the sun.” I sat motionless and in disbelief. I had looked out this morning at my daffodils that had bloomed so beautifully yesterday to see them flat down on the frosty grass from the freeze. I had told him, “My daffodils are dead. There’s no way their stems survived after how cold it got.” And yet… here he stood with a handful of strong, happy flowers.
“They are resilient, “ he said.
And I remembered right then that was why daffodils became my favorite! Their resiliency in high winds and storm, the way they lean into the weather instead of resisting it, their trumpeting the beginning of spring like they were made for it… because they were. Made to trumpet the unique song placed within them at the moment of creation.
It’s the very same for us. Made with unique quirks, longings, joys, passions and creative sparks. Placed within to welcome us into a world of possibility, imagination and childlike wonder.
There comes a time when the world begins to feel too heavy… this is when we know it is time to shed the armor we’ve worn for far too long and pick up our creativity instead.