White Lily

A time of suffering to God isn't hopeless. It's an opportunity for growth and it's the road to a closer relationship with Him. That's the idea anyway. But we don't usually see that right away. Our capacity of seeing beyond the here and now is often shadowed by the sorrow and the loss we feel. It's very real and very now and that's okay. We need to feel everything. We need to move through all the phases at the right time.

But there's something beautiful about the way God reasons with us, each of us on such a personal level and in such a way that only we can understand and make sense of. He knows what we need and how we need to hear it. He understands how we're wired and what will bring us comfort during a time where the tears flow freely and the hole in your heart only grows.

It was with an extremely heavy heart that I shuffled into our kitchen in the morning a few weeks ago, tear-stained eyes, shaky limbs, pounding head. I was hanging by a thread and felt things I just didn't know how to deal with, how to make sense of. As I entered the room, I lifted my head and scanned my surroundings. As I gazed out our back patio doors, the corner of my eye caught something that left me breathless. I looked down at the plant sitting at my feet and noticed a large white lily standing tall and in full bloom high above its leafy canopy below. The sun poured through our windows and there was a very obvious ray of light spotlighting this wonder, specifically lighting up the flower. Incredible. We've had this plant for a year and a half and there has never been any trace of a flower on it, I didn't even know that this was a flowering plant. Actually, just the night before, I had watered it and there certainly was no flower or even buds in sight. God knew. He knew. He knew that more than any sympathetic word, any hug or any perfectly written note, a visual picture of life, of beauty and of love was what I needed.

I cherish the idea of God as a Father. I envision a man with a soft expression of his face, kind eyes and gentle hands, scooping me up in his arms and holding me tightly. The comfort that I feel from that illustration is unexplainable. Maybe it's because of the relationship I've always had with my own Dad. Maybe it's because of the simplicity of God's love. It's not complicated. It's right in front of us.

As my white lily continues to stretch upwards, I am trying to do the same. I'm growing and I'm trusting. I believe in the promises of my God.*