I’d Rather Be a…

As I was rocking in my bench swing this morning, I overheard a private conversation in my flower bed. Sounds ridiculous, I know. Who’s ever heard of talking flowers unless of course one reads Alice in Wonderland? Anyway, I hated to eavesdrop, but their words struck a chord. Here’s what they said:

 

“I don’t like being a Day-lily. I’d rather be an Iris.”

“Seriously? Don’t you know people call you the perfect perennial plant? Your flowers are dazzling. In fact, the name lily translated in Greek means beautiful. That’s why the woman planted you in her garden.”

“She also planted Irises. The Greek name for those perennial plants is rainbow. Their fan-shaped flowers come in a variety of colors. And they’re prolific. Have you noticed how quickly they multiply?”

“They’re not perfect. Did you see their tall flowering stems last month? The woman had to stake the poor things because they couldn’t stand erect. What’s the point of blooming, if you’re lying on the ground and no one can see you?”

“Admit their sword-shaped leaves are unique.”

“Yes, and God could have made you a weed, but He didn’t.”

“But if He did, I could grow up between the cracks of cement. Trust me, weeds are hearty. The woman fusses because they invade her garden. It’s a constant battle.”

‘The point is God created you as a Day-lily; not a weed or an Iris. Consider the lilies…not even Solomon in all his splendor was dressed like one of these.”(Luke 12:27)

“But if I’m meant to be a Day-lily, why can’t my flowers be yellow like those other Day-lilies?”

“How can you grow and not recognize your blessings? You have full sun and plenty of water.”  

“Is that the only tune you hum? Be thankful. What’s wrong with wanting more from life? Maybe I want to be in the County Fair Flower Exhibit.”  

“You’re right Day-lily. You  should have been an Iris. Now you’re only a discontent and envious plant. Pray you get a fungus so you can bloom and die like your flowers that typically last 24 hours.”

“Your attitude is horrible! I’m not listening to you, Marigold. You’re an annual flower. You won’t even be here next year.”

Their talking ceased. I could hear a pine needle drop….

Until a chirping bird said,. “I don’t like being a Finch? I’d rather be a Hummingbird.”    

It Must Be Me


Monday morning greets me in a pretty fashion, but I emerge from bed and hurry out the door with … an attitude.

 Meet with people, fulfill commitments, and run those errands. At the end of the day I’m … frustrated.

What’s wrong with that person? Why can’t that place be more efficient? Can you believe the price of gas?

Tuesday brings more of the same … frustration.

I feel like a kite tethered to earth. I could soar to great heights if it were not for that person, that situation that drags me down.

By Wednesday, I’m in a MOOD! “Get Out of My Way!

Life feels like a maze and I’m running into walls, bumping heads, hitting dead ends. Is there any way out?

That afternoon, I get alone to open The BOOK and meet with God in HIS WORD when it DAWNS on me!!!

It’s not them, him, her, or the price of gas. It’s ME.

In my tyranny of the urgent, I’ve raced through each day without eating my BREAD. Jesus said to them, “I am the bread of life; he who cones to Me shall not hunger, and he who believes in Me shall never thirst” (John 6:35).

JESUS: The “wonderful counselor, Prince of Peace” (Isaiah 9:6) “our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble” (Psalm 46:1) has been absent from my mind these past few days … even though I know in my heart He is “Immanuel, God with us.”

Frustration wanes like the moon while the Holy Spirit convicts my soul. I’m the root of the problem, the common denominator of all my frustration. Fatigue would have me stay at home, but it is Wednesday night so I go to church where no one knows I have an attitude.

When the sermon is over, I participate with other saints in the Holy act of communion. With head bowed and eyes closed, I confess my rotten, horrible, bad attitude…AND the “lack of quality time spent with Him” that led to such a dismal state of mind.

Worship music fills the room, but silence seals my lips as I seek forgiveness. I mentally run to the cross where I “drink His blood and eat His broken body” in remembrance of Jesus the Christ who died for me.

Praise music reaches a crescendo. With tear-stained cheeks, I stand with upraised arms. Frustration, as well as guilt, subsides…..replaced by another attitude.

An Attitude of GRATITUDE